#but i chose a single one this time hehe

[amu-brain-dump]

Thank you @vaguemylk for tagging me on this cute picrew

I'm tagging anybody who sees this and wants to do it but if not that's also fine

[justiisms]

"Just because we're small doesn't mean we can’t hide some big surprises up our sleeve. Isn't that right, you two?” *pikachu looks incredibly proud as he stands on top of yuta’s desk, his little arms crossed as he stares at the birthday boys*

“Since we’re all detectives, I thought I would put you two to the test. You know, just to make sure you keep your skills sharp. If you want to be a great detective like me, you have to be prepared for a case anytime, anywhere.”

“Now as for this little treasure hunt, I’ve decided to give you two hints. The first is that both of you will find your respective gift in the same box and that it’s somewhere in this room. And as for the second hint: I’m in your room and I help keep it clean. You hang things inside of me and then ignore me. What am I?”

*yuma furrows his brows as he mimics his even tinier uncle and crosses his arms, lost in thought as he stares at the ground. he seems to be stumped as to what he could be talking about, pika sitting down as he watches the two figure it out!*

*pikachu stays quiet, eager to see how long it will take for them to realize that a purple box with a red ribbon is hiding inside of the closet, pika making sure to stay calm once one of them gets close to it, the tiny detective not wanting his tail to start wagging and accidentally give it away!*

*it’s only when the other detective lifts up the present that he begins to clap, now letting his tail wag like mad as he pats the area beside him, wanting the two to open it on the desk!*

“I knew you could do it! Oh, I can’t wait to see the look on your faces! There’s no way you’ll be able to guess what’s inside!” *and once the box is opened they’ll find a ruby and a sapphire inside, both of them easily three inches tall and one inch wide?!*

“It’s the strangest thing, I had been wracking my brain for days trying to think of what to get you two when those gems suddenly appeared on my desk one morning! Granted they were uncut so I had to take them to a professional, but still. It was like some kind miner answered my prayers and snuck in and left some raw gems. I even asked around to see if someone left them there, but everyone was clueless. Now they’re yours to do with as you please. Display them as is, take them to have them cut into a ring, do whatever you like.”

*however, unbeknownst to the happy detective, something can be seen sparkling from underneath his bed, sableye’s eyes shining with joy before she silently slips back into the shadows~*

"Hehe, that's right! Which means you must had hid some ones for us, huh, Uncle Pika? I can't wait to see what it is!" He beams, before he tilts his head curiously at what their tiny mouse uncle says next. "Oh? Testing our skills...? S....S-Sure, we can do that. What challenge do you have for us, Uncle?"

Then, he listens to the challenge and the two hints provided. "Hmm...so in the same box, and in this room. And you put things in it and then ignore it..." Pacing around the room, he glances at everything to see what the answer could be... until he looks towards the closet door. And then realizing that the description they were given fits a closet to a T... "Oh! Of course-!" He goes over to it and opens it, smile widening when he sees the gift box! "Alright!! Yuma, look over here!" He chuckles when hearing his uncle clap and tail wag excitedly, and begins to bring the present onto the desk!

"T-Thank you!! Ohh, now I'm even more excited to see what we got: thank you, Uncle! Okay, let's see here...." As the two open the box and retrieve their presents, Pikachu would be right in them not expecting what would be inside, Yuta giving a small gasp of surprise as he looks at the jewels! "W...Whoah...!!! I-Is this a real ruby and sapphire?! W-Wow...!!!"

As he looks at the ruby in his hand and the sapphire in his Yuma's, he nods as his uncle explains what had happened. "O...Oh wow, I see... so these were left on your desk by someone... and none of the others knew who did it? Interesting... I wonder who snuck those on your desk, then? B-But wow, so you can get raw gems cut, huh... They're honestly very pretty.. y-yeah!! Maybe until Yuma and I decide what we want to turn them into, I'll put this one in a nice spot in my room as a pretty little decoration I can gaze at, hehe. Thank you, Uncle Pikachu! This was a very nice surprise! I can't wait to see what I can do with i-"

Then he cuts off when he swears that for a second, he saw something... sparkle underneath his uncle's bed? "...!" And then he saw her eyes: Sableye's! ("Oh! Sabeleye...! ......Ah. Ahaha: aww, Sable...") Now figuring out who the mysterious 'delivery person' that left those gems on Pikachu's desk is, his smile grows much brighter and warmer, giving a soft chuckle as he leans in to lift his tiny uncle in his arms, so that the brothers can give him both a hug~!

"H-Hehe, I hope you don't mind, Uncle. Just wanted to express how happy you made us! Thank you!! The little challenge was fun, and we promise to take great care of these gems! I love you all so much!" The 'all' subtly including Sableye, of course~! He doesn't want to put her out on the open right now, but the moment he's alone and can find her: he will definitely thank her in full!

[reyalvr]

RUMORS!

I KNOW YOU HEARD THE RUMORS, YOU MUST GET OVER TO IT RIGHT AWAY!

synopsis ┊ ken sato- a remarkable name in the world of modern baseball- has graced japan with not only his presence, but also his skills as a key player for the yomiuri giants. from press conferences to media endorsements, it’s clear that his stardom has only intensified from his recent move. but what happens when you, his personal assistant, are left to deal with some more… serious rumors?

genre ┊ chaotic fluff, oneshot

pairing ┊ ken sato x gn-PA!reader

warnings ┊ mild cursing, ami is not the reporter depicted!

word count ┊ 2.2k

author’s note ┊ hiya! i recently found time to watch ultraman: rising and this fic was just writing itself in my head hehe… happy reading! (p.s. yes… the title was inspired from the new minions song)

THREE MONTHS. That was how long you had known baseball’s darling, Ken Sato. And in those three months, you had undergone every single PR nightmare you had ever conjured up in your mind prior to pursuing your career. You had worked with celebrities before- doing God knows what ‘til the waking hour on their every beck and call. But Ken, despite presenting himself as a laid back man, was an entirely new… experience. 

From the Kaiju attack at his first game under the Giants, to the continuous streak of losses throughout the first half of the season, it seemed like the Gods were against you as you did your damndest to handle the damage control on his reputation. His ego didn’t aid you either- having to spin and twist multiple incidents to get reporters and media outlets off his back. You weren’t exactly sure what it was that kept you from quitting all in all, but the longer you worked under him, the thinner your thread seemed to snap. 

You huffed an annoyed sigh into the cold air, picking up the pace as you jogged along the designated path by the bay. Your days off were scarce- not because of Ken’s schedule, but because of your own decision to be up to date with his spontaneous actions. Despite the rarity of solitude, you always managed to savor your time off. The music played at a mellow volume in your ears, the morning sun starting to warm your surroundings as you watched its rays splash hues of orange across the sky. 

Your felt your watch beep against your skin, signaling the end of your morning run. Pausing by the railing, you leaned against the old metal bars as you checked your stats. You swiped absent-mindedly on the screen of your smartwatch, scrolling once you were sure that everything was in order. There was one thing that caught your eye, though, as you noticed the red notification bubbles on your message app were continuously going up. It was odd, yes, but not odd enough to be out of the ordinary- at least in your line of work. 

Deciding not to bombard yourself this early in the morning, you opted to give everything a once-over once you made it back to your apartment. Whatever it was could wait- you were on your time and your pace. Besides, it couldn’t be that bad. Could it now?

IT DEFINITELY COULD, AND IT DEFINITELY WAS. You pushed on the gas as hard as you could, your tongue poking into your cheek as you continued to drive to Ken’s house. Of all the days that he decided to make perhaps the stupidest decision in his career, he chose today. Doing your best not to see red, you dialed his phone once more. The ringing played throughout your car as you maneuvered through the roads, and you swore for what felt like the umpteenth time that morning when you heard the tone of his voice message. 

Hey, it’s Ken. Leave a message after the beep, and I’ll be more than happy to ignore it! Said his usual arrogant tone playing before the generic beep. You gripped the steering wheel harder, huffing angrily as you sharply turned a corner. 

“Kenji Sato answer your goddamn phone right now! I’m ten minutes away from your house and when I get there, I better not be greeted with your supposed secret love child!” You yelled, pushing the red button once you finished your message. 

Ah yes. The centerpoint of your current rage: Ken’s “leaked” one-on-one with a reporter about juggling baseball and his homelife. Someone on Ken’s staff had sent the article in your shared work group chat, and nearly all of his personnel had directly messaged you about the issue. It was inevitable for celebrities to get into a scandal once or twice, but one on this level would not be an easy fit to overcome. 

You don’t exactly remember what you were doing prior to receiving the messages- all you knew was that you needed to get to Ken as soon as possible. Of course it just be a misunderstanding, hell it could even be a hoax! But knowing Kenji, anything could be possible. You neared the hill of his private property, driving past the gates as the security recognized your car.

You parked haphazardly at the front of his house, your feet stomping into the gravel as you made your way to his front door. His estate had numerous smart tech installed throughout his home, so you knew that each and every one of your moves were either being recorded or observed. You crouched slightly to be in frame with the doorbell’s camera, your anger slightly toned down.

“Ken.” You paused to narrow your eyes. “Open the door.”

For the next minute and a half you swore you could hear some sort of clash and bang from inside the house. You kept your arms crossed, raising your eyebrow from time to time when the clashing seemed to grow louder. After what felt like an eternity, the front door opened slightly. Not all the way, but just enough for Ken to peek out and smile at you- albeit nervously cocky.

The nerve.

“Hey, [Y/N]! What uh- what are you doing here?” He manages to cough out, roughly combing a hand through his hair. “I thought it was your day o-”

“Save it.” You reply, your gaze sharp enough to slice through whatever excuse he had at the ready. You held up your phone then, the article’s headline prominently bolded:

OUT OF LEFT FIELD: Ken Sato Strikeout? Nope! Love Child Home Run!

Ken’s head bent down to get a good look at what you were showing him, and you watched carefully as his eyes scanned over the article not once, but thrice. You let out an impatient hum, your mouth forming into a slight scowl as the both of you stood in silence. With your head tilted to the side, you dropped your hand back down and crossed your arms. 

“Are you just gonna stand there or are you going to start explaining to me what the hell you’ve been up to these past twenty-four hours?” You question, moving past him as you enter the house. 

Usually you would wait for Ken to let you in, but stalling would only hinder you from coming up with what to do next. The article had already been up for two hours, and you halted any statements from being made before you could get an explanation from Ken himself. He quickly tailed after you, nearly stumbling over himself as you stopped at his kitchen. You gripped the marble countertop, closing your eyes momentarily before you turned to face him once more. 

“[Y/N] I swear, it’s not as bad as you think it is,” Ken says as he tries to add reassurance to his tone, but it doesn't mask the lingering tinge of falsehood.

“Oh, really?” You say, your eyebrows raised in disbelief. “Because in the span of two hours I have had thirty news outlets blowing up my- your management team for a response!”

He opens his mouth to speak, but stops again midway when you continue. “The headline I showed you was local. I want you to tell me exactly how and why you were on the phone with a reporter talking about your private life at God knows what hour. Now.”

You can see him swallow, licking his lips after as he tries to form the right words. He blinks a bit before pinching the bridge of his nose, tilting his head up as he lets out a deep sigh. When he opens his eyes he’s still greeted with your restive stance. Still he remains slightly hesitant, but he does end up recalling the remnants of his conversation with a reporter he had met at one of the parties he attended. Ken goes on to explain that he had only seeked out advice. His schedule, his personal life- he needed an outlet. You can feel yourself slowly untense, though you continued to listen to make sure all your facts were straight.

When he finishes his retelling, he puts his hands up slightly- as if he were trying to put you at ease. “I swear, that’s all I said. I thought,” He pauses, his brows furrowing in a way that made you slightly mad at yourself from blowing up at him. “I just thought I could have a normal conversation for once. ‘Guess I was wrong.”

The warm lights cast a sombre shadow on his features, and from this angle you notice the worn out expression painted on his face. The bags under his eyes are darker than usual, not to mention the fading bruises from his latest altercation with one of players from his opposing team. In front of you was not Ken Sato, this was Kenji; Simply a man who was thrust into a new life without the needed support. 

“Well, no shit.” You say, finally breaking the silence, you fix your posture against the counter as you tone down the anger in your voice. “Jesus Ken, sometimes I wonder how you were able to maintain your career before me.”

At that he lets out a soft laugh, his dull expression slowly fading. “Yeah, I do too.”

You give him a puzzled look before you reply. “Are you mocking me?”

“No! No, I was being serious.” He says, his smile dropping slightly. “I know I haven’t been an easy task, hell you’re here on your day off for Christ’s sake.” 

You hum at his words, narrowing your eyes slightly as you push yourself off the counter with another awkward cough. In all ninety days of working under Ken Sato, never has the man gotten this sentimental with you. You decide not to linger on his words, your attention going back to the problem at hand. 

“Right, well,” You sigh, whipping your phone out in the process. “I need you to give me the name of that reporter. I’ll get the legal team to draft an NDA breach.” 

He furrowed his eyebrows then, looking at you as if you’d said something odd. “I didn’t make him sign an NDA though?”

You only give him a smile, a hint of confidence plastered on your lips. “I know. I have my ways, Sato.”

“You’re a pretty good assistant, then.” He replies, the corners of his lips going up slightly as he keeps his arms crossed. 

“I’m an excellent assistant.” You correct without looking at him, your fingers tapping away at your phone as you prepare the next steps of your plan. 

Ken can only chuckle in agreement, tapping his fingers on his forearm as he awaits your next set of instructions. Within the next twenty minutes you’ve sent out the necessary details to your team, your legs kicking as you sit on one of his bar stools. He’s stood across from you, leaning on the countertop looking at you intently as you explain the response plan. 

“And lastly,” You say, sliding out your hand. “Give me your phone.”

 His head tilts, the same confused expression on his face. “Why?”

“Just do it,” Your hand curls, motioning for him to hand his phone over. “No, I am not installing a monitor.” You add when you see his mouth open to interrogate you. 

He slides his phone over with a defeated huff, and you open a new contact page on his contacts. “If you need to talk, do it with someone who won’t leak your shit.” You say, sliding back his phone when all your details are settled.

“I have your number though, don’t I?” Ken questions, looking over at the number you inputted. 

“You had my work number. Now you have my personal phone.” You point your finger at him before continuing. “Don’t abuse it. I’m still your assistant.” “Wasn’t gonna, sweetheart.” He says, an amused smirk mixing in with his addled look. 

You quirk your eyebrow at the nickname. You shake your head, hopping off the stool as you make your way back to the front door. Ken follows behind you, hands in his pockets as he watches you leave. Before you can open the door though, you look back at him one last time. 

“I mean it, Ken.” You say, making sure it gets through his head. “You have a problem, tell me. You need a solution, you tell me.”

“I know, I know.” He gives you a tight-lipped smile, nodding towards the door. “Go enjoy the rest of your day off before I start thinking you care about me.”

“I do. It’s my job to care about you, Ken.” You reply, giving him a look before you open the door. “Whether you like it or not, I’m your lifeline. At least until you get rid of me, which won’t be happening for a good while.”

“Oh yeah?” He jests, his cocky demeanor slowly coming back. “‘You so sure about that?”

“Extremely sure.” You’re standing outside now, slowly walking backwards. “Twenty minutes ago people thought you had a secret love child and that you were a terrible father. Now you’re back on the face of KFC as baseball’s darling.” 

He’s taken aback. Was he actually booted off of his collaborations? He hastily checked his phone, scrolling through all his platforms. To his surprise, he was greeted with… his usual feeds. No sight of the article, no lingering gossip. His ads had doubled, his partnerships boosted on the products he had endorsed. He looked back up to say something, but you had already started your car. You backed out his estate, giving him a smile through the tinted glass of your windshield. 

He let out a soft laugh, shaking his head. You were right. But who was he kidding?

You always were.

[cupidriki]

UNDER THE MISTLETOE — psh

PRECiS ♡ you didn’t plan to attend sunghoon’s birthday party, but you reluctantly went and ended up kissing him — the man you hate the most.

park sunghoon x fem! reader ୨୧ non idol au fluff some angst ・ implied second chance kissing mistletoe kissing exes to lovers this might be a trailer hehe skin ship parties ( wc : 1040 ) — reblogs, comments, and likes are very appreciated

ai’s love note 💌 this is for liz’s season of love event !! ^0^ (im so glad you’re back liz) sorry this is corny btw ..

You scanned the room anxiously, noticing no familiar faces as you crossed your arms in nervousness. You never enjoyed parties.

But once you noticed Sunghoon walking towards you, a sense of relief washed over you as you saw him approaching, making you sigh in relief.

Park Sunghoon - the only person who can make a lie taste so sweet. The way he can make a comment so dulcet feels like he possesses some kind of power when his words roll off his tongue.

“I’m glad you came, love.” He had a silly grin on his face. He always flirted with you, never leaving your side. You avoided his flirty remarks because why would he love you? So, you kept your distance and pushed him away.

“Hoon, how many times do I have to tell you to leave me alone?” Your voice was annoyed, making Sunghoon curve into his signature grin. He was excited like a little boy hearing his nickname from you.

“But if I leave you alone, I’d have to annoy girls who are interested in me” You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms. He’s been continuously chasing after you like a dog and is always attached to you, scaring off any guy who dares to stare in your direction.

“Like you could ever find one” It’s clear you were lying; Sunghoon can have any girl he wants.

“See that, there! Who needs affection when you could have blind hatred” Sunghoon had a smug grin on his face, inching closer to yours. Your heart skipped a beat, but you chose to ignore it and scoffed, not wanting to feed into his trap.

“Anyways, how about a birthday kiss to make this birthday special?” The arrogant man lifted your chin to lock your gaze on his tall figure, a smug grin plastered on his face. “Whatever..” You whispered to yourself, hoping that Sunghoon hadn’t heard you.

He gently guided you to an empty corner, his eyes sparkling with mischief and a playful grin lighting up his face. The innocence of his smile was contagious, and it tugged at your lips.

Without warning, a sharp gasp pierced the air, drawing your attention. Sunghoon stood there, his eyebrows arched high in a sarcastic way, a smirk playing on his lips. He pointed at the ceiling, making you look up in curiosity.

A single sprig of mistletoe hung from the ceiling, it glistening softly in the dim light.

Sunghoon wore a dreamy, lovesick smile that lit up his face, his eyes gleaming with hope and mischief. You couldn't help but let out a frustrated sigh, disbelief washing over you.

You would be lying if you said you didn't want to kiss him and his plump lips. However, your ego was too high to admit your feelings and lose to his challenge. “See? Even Santa wants us together”

You rolled your eyes and scoffed as he stepped closer, his height towering over yours. His hot breath brushed against your skin, causing a shiver to run through you. How could a man make your skin crawl while also making your heart flutter at the same time?

“Well then.. Let's make this Christmas special, shall we?” The tall man gently pressed you against the wall, placing your wrist on it. His eyes gazed down at you before moving his gaze lower to your lips, making your heart race.

Your breath hitched as he brushed a strand of hair behind your ear and placed his fingers under your chin to make you look up at him.

As he muttered a quiet voice of permission, you nodded without thinking before he crashed his lips onto yours. You felt his racing heartbeat that made you think for a second that maybe he was sincere about how he felt about you.

But you were wrong.

Now, snapped back to reality, you feel foolish for believing such an empty lie. Sunghoon never loved you as deeply as you loved him, and you will never see his face again. You stared at the old jacket that you forgot to give back to him, missing all the memories you two made.

Nothing about him could escape your thoughts: the scent of his Tamburins perfume, the delicate way his touch glides over your soft skin, and the way his plump, soft lips brush against yours, leaving a hint of strawberry chapstick.

Memories flood your mind as you let out a sigh, feeling a heaviness in your heart. You remember the times you spent making out in your pink, girly room, stargazing at the moon together, and laughing at your inside jokes, wishing those moments would never end. Each thought makes you miss him more, always searching for his familiar face in a crowd where he’s never present.

His sharp nose, the moles you can count all day, and his messy dark brown hair made you miss him. It seems impossible for him to leave your mind. You want to give up on him - and you know you have to.

You stared at the notification glowing on your phone screen and sighed when you saw your friends once again trying to set you up on a blind date. You thought to yourself that maybe agreeing to it could help take your mind off him, even if just for a short while. With that in mind, you picked up your phone and replied to your friends with a simple, "Fine."

You know deep down that nobody could fit your puzzle piece like Sunghoon, but you know he has never thought of you since the day you two last met - so you have to move on.

But what you couldn't see was Sunghoon lying on his large bed, staring at your photos—missing you so deeply that his heart ached.

He let out a sigh and moved his gaze to the suitcase with his clothes and items. His thoughts were racing as he doubted whether you’d give him another chance to hold you in his arms again.

He wondered how you would react when you saw him again. You probably hated him, and that was okay. All he wanted was to see your familiar face one last time, and he was determined to do that.

[nightmare-niko]

F*cked My Way Up To The Top [Father Charlie Mayhew x reader]

pt.1

Prompts: 2/6/8

Word count: 1457

Warnings: oral! fem receiving, dom! Ish reader— this ones actually kinda just cute lol

A/n: this one was requested but i changed one of the prompts a tiny bit to fit the scheme better! i hope yall still like it tho hehe :3 and also lets pretend that the whip cuts on his back aren't fresh !!! for Y/ns sheets sake...

Copying or translating my writing is not allowed. If you see my work on another site it is stolen. Reblogs are appreciated and encouraged.

The last time you visited Church, you forgot to leave your number. You were too busy trying to sneak out to your car with no one seeing the priest's cum running down your bare (but marked) legs. Charlie had offered for you to stay the night, but you'd rather die than do the walk of shame out of a church in the daylight. When you found out you had a rare three-day weekend you began your planning. It would be unfair for you to show up and cause chaos on a Sunday... again, which is why you chose to dress your best and show up to church on a Monday.

When you strolled into the church, Father Charlie was deep in a conversation with someone you honestly couldn't get less of a shit about. Taking a seat near the back, you watch as Charlie's eyes rake over your form. You shamelessly stare as he gets visibly more and more nervous under your hungry gaze. What power you had over him, it was pathetic on his part. You loved it. The minutes ticked by agonizingly as you watched him. Nothing about the look in his eyes told you he gave a single shit about the person before him. It was honestly extremely amusing.

It wasn't long before he was making his way over to you. "Y/N, I'm surprised to see you back." He slips into the space beside you. Your head reels as his cologne invades your senses.

"I was just so touched by last week's service I had to pay another visit.” You gesture down to your slightly more church-appropriate outfit, "I even dressed modestly.

He hums, eyes darting right to your stocking-covered thighs and pencil skirt, “Are we sure...”

You follow his eyes and flush, “It's not my fault it's cold in here..." You defend.

He laughs quietly, "That's true.” He pauses for a moment before leaning closer. "You think I don't know why you’re here?" His breath is hot against your face.

"You think I don't know you’re itching to get your hands on me?" You’re quick with your response, it shocks him. "You started fidgeting like a schoolboy the moment I walked in.”

You watch as the blood rushes to Charlie’s face, painting the tips of his ears pink. He clears his throat, "Well then, what's your plan?"

"Well, my car is parked out back. So, either we sneak out and go to mine...” you pause in faux contemplation, “or we could risk everyone in this church, hearing us fucking in your office.”

The man before you gasps, you fight to contain your amusement. You try to get up, but he stops you. “What if someone sees?"

"We've been friends since high school, Father. This whole town knows we know each other."

The worry in his brow doesn’t budge, you sigh- “Look, maybe this was a mistake, we can just forget—“ "No- No it—“ he cuts you off, “Well maybe it is but I don’t care. I will repent later, go wait and I'll be out in a few minutes.”

oh god not again

"I won't leave you for thirty minutes again, I promise,” He reassures.

•

You’re 100% sure you blacked out because now you were pulling into your driveway with Charlie in your passenger seat. “Aren’t I just such a gentleman?” You tease.

“Yeah? In what way?” His voice matches your playful tone.

"I drove you to my house before— ya know...” you put the car in park.

“No, I don't know, before what?"

"Before fucking your brains out." You shrug nonchalantly as you pull the key out of the ignition.

“Is that what I did? Fucked your brains out?"

"Yup!" You open your car door, stepping one foot out before turning back to him. "And that's what I'm gonna do to you so— c'mon!”

You skip towards your front door with Charlie right on your trail. It's been a while since you had a man in your house, your body vibrates with anticipation as you unlock your front door.

"You know, one of these days you should let me take you to lunch or something.”

"We'll See," You shrug, shrugging off your jacket. "Behave for me today and I'll let you do whatever you want.” You turn to him, pressing your chest against him, and his hands immediately find their place on your hips.

"I think I like the sound of that~" Charlie leans down, capturing your lips in a gentle kiss. You revel in the taste of his lips on yours. You didn't know what it was— but something about Charlie was so intoxicating. He was tall, much taller than you— and as your torso pressed against his, you realized he was hard in his slacks. "That's," he groans, pressing his visible bulge into your stomach, "that, darling, is what you do to me."

You hum and take him by the hand to lead him through your house and into your bedroom. He looked good-- When did he not look good? Wasting no time you bring Charlie's face back to yours for another searing kiss.

Charlie's hands greedily pull your neatly tucked blouse out from your skirt. You help him lift it over your head, the chill of the room sending goosebumps up your arms. You quickly pull your skirt and tights down, leaving you in just your white ruffle socks and underwear. Charlie quickly mirrors your actions, ridding himself of his shirt and pants quicker than you had expected— damn he was hot.

Your padded feet patter across the hardwood as you make your way onto your bed. You beckon Charlie over to you with your finger. His strong body towers over you as your back collides with the headboard behind you. His finger trails down the side of your neck, the marks he had left last week were mostly faded— that was no good. His lips greedily work to leave more love bites, you whine.

Raking your manicured nails down his toned chest, he groans against your skin, “fuck.” he sits up to get a better look at you under him, “Let me taste you, baby, please?”

You bring your foot up to his chest, pushing gently to get him on his back, "Beg. Maybe I'll consider." You seductively crawl over to him, sitting on his clothed cock. He revels from underneath you, his hands squeezing at your thighs and ass. You kiss all over his torso as he struggles to form a coherent thought— drunk on you.

“Please— Baby please, I need to taste you.” He slurs, “Sit on my face— suffocate me I don't care. I'll die a happy man.”

You giggle against his skin, nipping at him with your teeth playfully. “How did you know flattery works on me~”

“Lucky guess,” he chuckles.

Charlie desperately paws at you wordlessly pleading for you to end his suffering. You comply— removing your underwear. The moment your dripping cunt was close enough his lips were latched onto you. Kissing licking and biting at you like a starved man, he curses against you again.

The grip on your thighs is almost painful, you are certain he would leave crescent moons on them. You loved it. You rut against his nose as his tongue prods at your hole— you moan theatrically, folding over as the pleasure shoots through your whole body. Charlie sloppily laps at your folds until your legs begin to shake.

Your orgasm takes you by complete and utter surprise. Your vision goes white as Charlie licks up everything gratefully.

“fuck!” you pant, removing yourself from above him to slump onto your mattress. Charlie lay there panting— his face and chest kissed in a deep blush. Your eyes trail down his torso and to his boxers, the grey material soiled with a dark spot. You gasp, “did you?”

“yes,” he shamefully admits, hiding his face behind his arms

“Hey hey no it's okay!” you quickly reassure him. You try to pry his arms away from his face. “C'mon lemme see you, baby.”

“I’m embarrassed,” he mumbles.

You laugh lightly, kissing his arms in an attempt to lower his guard. “That was like the hottest thing I've ever experienced.”

“Really?” he peaks out at you.

“uh— are you kidding??” you exclaim, he fully puts down his arm and you leave a peck on his lips. “stay? Just for a little?”

He smiles tiredly, “You're gonna have a hard time getting me to leave.”

Tag list (If you want to be added just comment!)

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[ponderingmoonlight]

Gojo x wife reader request

Gojo’s wife has always been calm and collected despite any situation. She treats both the first and second years as if they were her own.When the elders call her in for a meeting about the first and second years she gets protective and reminds them why she’s called the White Snake Sorceress.

Hehe this was so fun to write, we love a strong and badass woman who takes no shit! Let me know what you think <3

Gojo's sweet wife showing her maniac side when it comes to protecting her precious students

Pairing: Gojo x wife!reader; wife!reader x students

Word Count: 1,5k

Synopsis: Despite Gojo's wife spoke vehemently against sending the first and second years on a way too difficult mission, the elders decided against her suggestion. Her calm and collected self changes drastically when she makes them regret their decicion...

Warnings: Gojo's wife being a menance to Jujutsu High elders lol, langugage, violence, Satoru Gojo enjoying every second of it, reader being like a mum, this is just pure comforting entertainment so enjoy hehe

„Hey darling, what are you up to this morning?”, your beloved husband mutters against your ear.

Shivers of comfort run down your spine immediately, you can’t help but embrace the love of your life with your arms wide open. Words can’t express how much you love Satoru Gojo, the man who stole your heart a long time ago and is now your husband. To this day you can’t put a finger on why he chose you. You, a calm and collected woman. You, who always keeps a cool head in every situation. You, who many people like Nanami describe as the complete opposite of him. But somehow you make it work. And god, how good it feels to wake up in his arms and greet him at Jujutsu High all over again.

“Oh, I was actually looking for my students. I haven’t seen any of them this morning, even though Maki usually goes for a run around this time”, you reply, face scrunched up in confusion.

You always cared for your students as if they were your own kids and Satoru can’t help but love you even more for it. The way you seem to know every minor detail about them, how you treat every single one with so much care while still teaching them hand to hand combat like none other, how they look up to you. It’s not a secret to anyone at Jujutsu High that your students love you just as much as you love them – even Megumi can’t escape a small smile as soon as you enter the room.

Knowing that, Satoru needs to swallow hard. Oh, you will totally go crazy if you hear where they are…Should he even tell you? Wouldn’t it be fun to let the elders deal with you? He knows how much you can change from your calm and collected self into a maniac if it comes to your precious students.

“Well, about that…”, he mumbles, scratching the back of his head just like Megumi does when he’s uncomfortable.

Your eyes dart towards him immediately, arms crossed in front of your chest. The face your husband makes doesn’t mean anything good, that’s for sure. Just a few days ago you talked for hours with the director and the elders about a potential mission for your first and seconds years. It would have been today if you aren’t mistaken. And all of them aren’t around…Your hands clench into fists, gaze piercing through him without any mercy.

“The elders decided on carrying out the mission despite your disapproval. Out students are on the way to where the special grade was last seen.”

“Is that so, huh.”

Your eyes darken in an instant, your cute and feminine features change so drastically that Satoru himself has to blink a few times. That causes trouble. And he’s totally here for it.

“Thank you for telling me, love. I will go and have a little talk with them.”

With a last soft kiss on his cheek you move towards the main building, towards the disgusting people who risk the lives of their students like there’s no tomorrow. Anger rises up inside your veins and almost takes your sight. You explained them over and over that a special grade curse along with who knows how much other strong curses is too much for only students to handle. Especially after they had to work so much lately, after they’ve been through hell and back, they aren’t capable of doing that alone. But instead of sending your husband and yourself like you suggested, they simply ignored your advice and sent them away without letting you know.

Enough of being kind and collected. You’ll show them a side of you they haven’t seen yet.

“What are you doing here, Gojo?”, Yaga Masamichi questions when catching a glimpse of you.

His heart stops for the split of a second. The way your stone-cold eyes dart towards him, your fists hanging unpromising down your body, your straight and confident walk…

No, he has never seen you like this. What happened that made you this mad?

“Are you responsible for the first and seconds years going on that suicide mission?”

While your voice does sound as collected as usual, the look on your face and how you position yourself in front of him tell otherwise. Of course, he is aware of the fact that you care about your students as if they’re your own children, but still…

“Me along with the elders. And as a teacher of Jujutsu High you are advised to accept that decision”, he replies without thinking twice.

You nod briefly, taking in his disrespectful words. Throughout all this time you taught here at Jujutsu High, you never lost your temper once, not even on the battlefield. You were always able to keep yourself together, no matter how rough the situation was. But this, the fact that they play with the lives of your beloved students like with dolls truly tests your patience to the brink.

“Follow me to meet them.”

You know exactly where does old farts are. Sitting on their asses in the room on the end of the hallway, drinking tea while deciding on the lives of others.

“Wait, you can’t just stomp in there”, the director shouts after you.

But you couldn’t care less. With a swift motion you swing the door open, exposing them sitting down just like you imagined.

“Satoru Gojo’s wife? What are you doing here? We didn’t ask you to come”, one of them barks at you.

“You all are aware of the fact that I could kill every single one of you without even blinking, right?”

Deadly silence hangs in the air, all pairs of eyes set on you in utter disbelief.

“(y/n)”, Yaga Masamichi breathes out behind you, the words that just left your mouth being so unusual for you.

What happened to the sweetheart of woman you are, the gentle smile that’s always plastered on your face, your calm and collected character of gold?

“And still, you foolishly decided on sending my students away. Into their certain death”, you continue.

It takes all of your strength to not lunge yourself at them. Who do they think they are to play with your student’s life like that? Aren’t they aware of the psychical damage that was done to Yuji when he fought against that special grade along with Nanami only a few days ago, when Nobara and Megumi almost lost their lives if it wasn’t for Shoko?  

“I know how much you care about your students, but this is-“

“Shut up”, you hiss through gritted teeth at the man standing in the door.

“You will call my husband here and tell him to support my students within this difficult task. You will send both of us after them to make sure that no one gets hurt because all of them have been through enough horror the last weeks.”

“And what if we don’t? You are nothing but a teacher, no matter how strong you are and who your husband is”, the oldest of them interrupts you rudely.

The clicking of your heels against the ground runs shivers down their spine while you elegantly make your way towards the man with long white hair who spoke to you so foolishly. Before anyone in the room is able to react, you grab his throat and yank him upwards, head meeting the cold wall behind him.

“Then you will experience yourself why I’m called the snake sorceress. Do you know about the deadliest snake in the world? The inland taipan can send up to 230 humans 6 feet underground with a single bite. Be aware of the fact that I am able to wipe out this whole room without even blinking. Don’t ignore me when it comes to my students ever again or I’ll show you than I’m capable of more than smiling gently.”

You let go of him roughly, wiping your hands on your uniform.

“I expect your call within the next 5 minutes. And please inform my husband about your decision as well”, you announce into the room with your usual calm voice.

Without sending them a single look, you leave the room and building behind, humming to yourself while holding your face into the sun. Yes, that definitely felt good. Maybe that was enough to make them learn their lesson. You might be gentle, but you aren’t a special grade sorcerer out of nowhere.

“Look who’s there, the woman who just threatened the higher ups of Jujutsu High all on her own. Did you really choke that man?”

Your husband grins at you widely, his blindfold already taken off. You simply shrug your shoulders and smile at him.

“Apparently I was able to convince them somehow. Come on, we should get going. I hope all of them are alright…”

“With a mum like you, they’ll definitely be.”

Your head darts towards your husband warningly, hands holding onto his shoulders.

“Don’t say it like that, I’m their teacher”, you clarify.

“And you care about them as if they were your own kids.”

“Well, someone has to do this, right?”, you reply with a cheeky smile before rushing to aid your students.

Hopefully they’ll never forget the lesson you taught them today.

Tags:  @arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld @dazaisdick @hellkaiserinphoenix  @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @starlightanyaaa @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @mokoartpost @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut  @mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0 @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @wxwieeee @lovelyluna1 @froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso  @gojosrealwife  @coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi @weebotaku21 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain  @risuola  @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345 @polarbvnny @ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp @localhehecat @alicerhr @kayleegomez

[rhysazriel]

Meet Me in the Copy Room [CEO!Rhysand]

SUMMARY: Rhysand is Y/N’s boss but he likes his secretary more than he should. (10.8k)

WARNINGS: teasing, swearing, kissing, smut; dirty talk, fingering, oral (both receiving and face sitting), protected sex, multiple orgasms

A/N: this is a fic from my other account that I no longer use, I changed some bits around for it to fit Rhys' character after an anon had requested it!! Also, this is a Modern AU bc Rhys’ vibe screams CEO hehe

Y/N has worked in many places before Velaris LTD. She was a waitress for a brief few months when she was in college at a diner near her dorm. She was also a librarian for six months and a part-time barista in the cafe down the street from her parents home. 

She’s done her share in retail and even a year working in the bank, but as of recent, the past seven months, she’s been employed by Velaris LTD, one of the worlds finest trading companies.

She’s no longer assigned a God awful uniform, nor does she have to converse with the general public and adhere to the customers' every need. No. Now, Y/N has her own little office area with a big reception desk with her own phone and separate line across her boss’ office. 

Now, she has her own computer and a little fax machine and she wears heels with pencil skirts and pretty blouses.

Given, she’s a secretary, but an important one at that. She’s not the kind of secretary that runs pointless errands and gets her boss coffee while adhering to their every beck and call. She arranges meetings in the most elite of clubs and restaurants. She files the reports she’s meant to and she handles his schedule and phone calls. 

He may be the CEO, but Y/N is the one behind closed doors that ensures everything runs as smoothly as it does.

And sure, Rhysand is the literal face and name of his damn company and he should ideally hire someone to run the damn business for him, but he’s also narcissistic and refuses whenever it’s brought up to let another man or woman run his business for him. 

Maybe that’s what she likes so much about her job. That he doesn’t trust anyone to be by his side except her.

It’s something she’s struggled to understand for the longest time. She’s three years younger than him, barely just turned twenty-six, yet he chose to hire her over all the other highly-qualified applicants. 

She hasn’t complained about it, would never. Her job is too good. As his personal secretary, her monthly wage is what four months at the diner used to get her. And don’t get her started on the other perks her position offers.

She’s thankful, and she makes that very clear in every opportunity she gets. She didn’t know Rhysand before she got the job, and if she’s completely honest, she’d never ever heard of him. 

She expected him to be some stuck up prick that didn’t respect women and only cared for his company and business. She was proven incredibly wrong at her interview when he made her a cup of tea and asked inclusive questions her previous employers didn’t care to think of.

Within three weeks of having the job, she’d learned more about him than the colleagues that have worked for him since the beginning of his firm. And she doesn’t mean things like how he takes his coffee and his favourite places to go for lunch. She means she knows what laundry detergent he can’t use because it irritates his skin. 

She knows his mother and sister are the most important women to him, that he sometimes misses his mundane life working with his brothers. She knows the meanings behind almost every single tattoo he has and that while the press made him out to be a cheating womaniser when his fiancee left him two years ago, it was actually her that did the cheating and left him heartbroken.

She’s always wondered why Rhysand trusts her so much. She’s never given him a reason not to, and she never would, but it’s always been in the back of her mind. But then, she supposes she doesn’t know why Rhys does a lot of things that regard her. 

Like how, in the mornings, he brings her coffee on his way past her desk. How he always insists he delivers paperwork to her himself and softly apologises for how much she has to file away. 

Or how he’ll send her cheeky emails from his personal about how annoying Gerione is when she tries to flirt with him. And on more than one occasion, she’s noticed him leaning in his chair to get a peek at her through the window of his office; craning his neck up to see her past the high wall of her reception-like desk.

She doesn’t say anything to him, though. She supposes he’s trying to sneakily check in on her to make sure she’s actually doing the work. Y/N knows she’s not the youngest to work for Velaris LTD, but she is the youngest to be fully employed and not as an intern. 

She’s faced ageism within the company since her first day. She’s either babied by the mothers of the company, or criticised and borderline bullied by the ones a few years older and higher up. She hasn’t much let it get to her, though. She figures she’s clearly a valuable asset if the company is still running and Rhysand still wants her by his side.

Today feels no different from any other. She gets to work at 7:45 AM, a sleepy smile on her lips as she greets Amora at the front desk. He smiles through tightly pursed lips and quickly avoids her gaze, greeting another worker with a high-pitched laugh and kissing their cheek. 

Y/N keeps walking, doesn’t let herself dwell and makes for the elevator. She’s alone until she gets up to the twelfth floor and the keycard clipped to her pencil skirt is gently patting against the left side of her lower tummy.

She doesn’t let her eyes take in her appearance as she walks past the floor-to-ceiling mirror that encompasses an entire 15-foot long wall. She knows her ponytail is tight enough and that her shirt is probably a little wonky because her bag that rests on her shoulder is tugging at the collar of it. 

She also doesn’t let herself look to her right because she doesn’t think she has the energy to pretend to ignore the snickers and grimaces from a few of the thirteenth-floor girls this morning.

Instead, Y/N rounds the corner and gets comfortable behind her desk. Her bag is tucked underneath it and her fingers make quick work of logging onto her computer and getting started for the day. Rhysand’s office is directly opposite her, thin windows either side of the tall door and from her seat, she can see his empty desk and a gorgeous view of the city.

It’s exactly 8 AM when Rhysand greets her with her morning coffee. He’s dressed in his usual slick black suit with a charming smile on those pink lips. Y/N would be lying if she said she’s never thought about her boss in more than a professional way. She’s thought about him in many different scenarios where he has her in many different positions.

“Good morning, Rhysand,” she greets him softly, a gentle smile on her plump lips. 

That was another thing that took her a while to get the hang of. Rhys doesn’t like to be referred to by his last name. The first time she greeted him as such, he waved it off and insisted she called him Rhysand or Rhys. 

It’s been months since she even thought of his last time… to the point where every time she sees it on some paperwork, she struggles to pair it with him.

Rhys takes his time every morning to admire her and her outfit of the day. He’s thoroughly pleased about the tight blouse and many open buttons at the top that offer the delicious view of the swell of her perky tits.

He averts his gaze with another charming grin, and can feel his trousers slowly begin to tighten as he places her coffee on her desk. “Morning, darling. How did you sleep?” he asks, always taking a few minutes out of his morning to make sure she feels okay and slept well the night before.

Rhysand’s never really known himself why he purposely goes out of his way to ask her these things. He doesn’t bother to do much with any other of his workers, nor his previous personal secretaries. 

He tells himself it’s because she’s young and new, so he wants to make sure she feels as comfortable and as included as he can. But she’s only three years younger than him and she’s been working for him for over a year.

He needs to stop feeding himself that same bullshit excuse.

Y/N gleams a pretty smile and leans forward with her elbows on the desk, subsequently pressing her tits together deliciously. Rhysand licks his lips, eyeing up her chest before gazing back at her pretty smile again. But it doesn’t go unnoticed and it stirs something that oozes confidence inside her.

She tilts her head a little, a hint of something mischievous in her eyes but Rhys doesn’t notice. Figures she’s too innocent to catch on to his somewhat advances, but little does he know. 

“Slept okay, it’s just really hot in my house lately… I need to speak with my landlord about getting a new AC fitted or I’ll be stuck sleeping naked until further notice,” she tells him through a seemingly innocent sigh, shrugging her shoulders and as hard as Rhysand tries to hide his bulging eyes, she catches them, along with the bulging in his pants.

He raises his brows in amusement and a lopsided grin pulls at the corners of his pink lips. He tilts his head like she did. “Do you only sleep naked when your air con is broken? Thought that’s something people living alone normally did? Freeing and all. I do it,” he shrugs his shoulders. He’s subtly prying, trying to learn if she still lives alone in that cutsey townhouse just twenty minutes away, or if she’s got a man on the scene.

He watches the apples of her cheeks twitch and he wonders if she’s imagining him sleeping naked. She is. He smirks to himself at the thought of what she must be mustering up in that pretty little head of hers. 

It’s nothing new between the two; occasional flirting and topics that definitely should not be discussed between a boss and his secretary. He likes to watch her squirm and splutter and innocently reply in a way that has blood rushing to his cock. 

He’s always observed her closely during these types of interactions, knows how to read her body language. He’s come to learn when she feels uncomfortable, and she’s never shown any signs of discomfort during said topics.

“And it would be freeing if I didn’t have a friend staying with me that often forgets to knock on my bedroom door before storming in,” she chuckles dryly, wondering if her words would rile him up or not. 

She doesn’t know why they would. 

She figures it’s all just harmless banter between the two; a little bit of flirtatious teasing to loosen them up when things get a little stressy. She’s dead certain someone as successful as him would never actually want anything romantic with his fucking assistant.

His brows raise higher than before, can feel his hand ball into tightly clenched fists and he clears his throat, gritting his teeth behind a hard smile. “Oh? You’ve got a friend staying with you?” he asks in a soft tone that doesn’t suggest he’s pissy that her friend gets to see her naked and between her sheets. 

He wonders what else she does naked between the sheets in the dead of night when she can’t sleep. 

She nods, soft hum verberating in her closed mouth as she types something quickly on her computer. “Yeah, he just broke up with his girlfriend so he’s staying at mine until he can get his stuff out and move into the new flat he’s found.” She watches him inhale a shaky breath through his flared nostrils and avert his gaze to the wall behind her.

She’s got a glimmer of a smirk on her lips, eyes light and playful but he doesn’t notice that. Rhysand’s too caught up with the newfound knowledge that it’s a male friend that’s walking in on her naked. 

She wonders if he’s imagining her naked in bed… or maybe entertaining the idea of her fucking her friend one night when he walks in on her. She thinks that might be it but it doesn’t explain why he looks royally pissed… dare she say; jealous?

She tilts her head when he looks back down at her, jaw still set and he clears his throat, seemingly trying to cool himself down. His elbows are bent as his forearms rest on the top of his desk, his back arched just slightly. 

“Not got anyone else he can stay with? What did they break up for?” he pushes further, hopes she’ll turn around and say it’s because he realised he’s gay. She doesn’t.

Instead, Y/N shrugs her shoulders and her elbow leans on the desk, her chin sitting in the palm of her hands as she gazes up at him leaning on the second level of her station. 

“Things weren’t working, he didn’t wanna be tied down just yet. Wanted to have a bit of fun before settling.” She can see the gears in his head turn and tick away as he hums absentmindedly.

She tries not to squint at him, to gauge his reaction and decipher what the meaning behind his distant gaze is. She tries not to look too closely into his blushing cheeks and set jaw. She tries not to let herself fantasise about him being jealous and wanting her to himself. She tries, but it doesn’t work.

Rhysand hums, nodding as if he gets it and maybe he does. She knows all about his one night stands and sleepless nights at the strip clubs he frequents. She also knows about the countless booty calls that tend to frequent his office, only for him to ask her to call security to escort the women out. 

And she absolutely should not find great joy in watching them huff as security links their beefy arms in their dainty ones, but she does.

Y/N thinks she keeps that secret to herself, but more times than not, Rhysand’s seen the hint of a smirk tug at the corner of her lips when he leans on the doorframe of his office. He knows she doesn’t notice him watching her, he likes knowing she thinks he doesn’t see things. He sees it all.

“Well hopefully he’ll be out of your hair soon enough,” he proposes and she has a sneaky suspicion that he’s subtly asking how long he’ll be staying with her. Which is exactly what he’s doing. Y/N hums again and shrugs her shoulders. 

“Actually, I don’t mind him being there, I quite enjoy the company. Gets a bit lonely in the evenings sometimes, to be honest,” she baits.

She watches with a small smirk as Rhys inhales a deep and hollow breath, bowing his head a little so his chin almost rests against his black tie, his jaw knocking against his shirt collar. She doesn’t know where this sudden confidence is coming from. Can she even call it confidence? She isn’t flirting, just baiting him to gauge his reactions.

“Don’t fancy going out with your girlfriends?” He tries to steer away from the topic of other men in her life, but Y/N isn’t finished just yet. 

“Sometimes, on the weekends, sure. But it gets a bit annoying when guys don’t know how to take a hint and keep trying to hit on you all night,” she sighs in fake annoyance and she’s certain she sees red flash through Rhysand’s eyes.

She lets herself think he’s jealous, protective. The thought of her boss thinking of her in a sexual manner and hating the idea of other men being in her home or hitting on her is exciting. It’s a thrilling rush of blood that causes tingles between her thighs and has her pressing them together beneath her desk.

Rhysand’s none the wiser. His fists clench at the image of another man dancing up her but his cock bloats at the thought of her dancing on a night out. No doubt in a short and tight dress. He knows tonight he’ll let himself think he can feel the swell of her ass rubbing against his crotch, let himself think he can taste her lips on his tongue.

He doesn’t say anything else and Y/N thinks he’s thoroughly fucked in his head. “Well, I’ve emailed over your schedule for the morning. Have a good day, Rhys.”

//

Through the rest of the morning, Rhysand struggles to focus on anything that isn’t her. He’s had two conference calls and for both video meetings from his office, he’s been leaned over in his chair with a strained neck, trying to catch sight of what she’s doing at her desk through the thin window in his door. 

He was more than thankful when the calls ended because when she sat on her knees on her chair and leaned over the top of the desk, her tits almost spilled out of her blouse and Rhysand spent the rest of the hour sporting a rock hard boner.

He thinks she’s doing it on purpose when she comes into him after her lunch break. She’s taken her hair out of her ponytail and it falls in loose waves down her shoulders. 

She enters his office with her hands full of paperwork that just so happen to stop beneath the swell of her breasts so they’re able to sit on the pile; all perky and swollen. She’s got a shy smirk on her lips, too. Like she knows she’s taking her end of the teasing a little further and she lets out a little huff of relief after she plops them onto his desk.

Rhys doesn’t try to hide his stare on her chest and she wonders if he catches her staring at the thick bulge in his pants. Neither parties say anything to the other but as their eyes meet, it’s like an unspoken understanding is pieced together. 

A silent acknowledgement that they both know what the other is doing and that they’re more than okay with it. Like all lines between them are completely blurred and any boundaries are ready to be pushed aside.

He watches her hips sway as she leaves his office, closing the door behind her when she leaves. His neck cranes again as he leans to his side in his swivel chair, watching her type something on her computer through the window again. 

Her brows are furrowed softly as she stands and rounds her desk, meeting his gaze through the thin glass and walking past his office completely. He tries to watch her but she disappears from his line of sight and an email pings through his laptop.

Y/N: Meet me in the copy room.

He’s leaping out of his chair before he can even push himself away from his desk. His strides are long and quick as he rips his office door open and slams it closed behind him. He clears his throat and avoids the gaze of his employees, ignores the ogling looks he earns from the women he knows touch themselves to the thought of him late at night.

Rhysand sneaks his way into the copy room, kicking the door closed behind him. She stands in front of him, leaning against the copier with a flirtatiously shy smile. He reaches blindly behind him and twists the lock, his bottom lip taut between his teeth as he ogles her shamelessly. She feels shy under his gaze, knowing he doesn’t care to hide how attracted he is to her.

She doesn’t have time to feel awkward or rake her brain for something to say because he’s rushing toward her and with both large hands caressing her cheeks, his lips are smearing against hers. 

Y/N reaches up and tangles her fingers in his messily styled hair, twisting the curls and tugging softly. His hands leave her face in desperation as they pinch at her hips before rounding her body and squeezing deliciously at her ass.

She tastes like strawberries; her tongue swirling against his. His mind is swimming and all he wants to do is taste her little honey pot, wants to know if she tastes as sweet down there as she does on her tongue. 

She’s no better. His tongue works skilfully against her, licking into her warm mouth and nibbling softly at her bottom lip. She can’t help but suckle filthily on his tongue, wishing to God she was on her knees as he fucks her mouth.

Both of their minds are hazy; like everything they feel is overwhelming and yet not enough all at once. Y/N feels the pulsing between her thighs, can feel her little lace panties soaking up her arousal and Rhysand’s cock is painfully hard in his pants—knows his tip is fucking leaking and no doubt a delicious purple shade.

“God, I‘ve been wanting to do this for so long,” he admits gruffly into her mouth, grabbing handfuls of her ass over her skirt but it’s too tight for him to spread her cheeks like he fucking needs to. 

Y/N whimpers into his mouth and he hikes her up and onto the desk, just beside the copier machine. He rolls her skirt up her thighs until it’s bunched tightly around her waist. Her clothed pussy sits against the cold wood and she shudders, tugging him between her spread legs.

“Why didn’t you?” She breathes heavily into the kiss. 

His hands are gripping at her thighs; the cool metal of his rings sending chills through her body and she’s desperately stripping him from his suit jacket. He groans, hands rushing back up to her face to cup her jaw while he struggles to fight against her to keep his jacket on. 

He kisses her lips and pulls away, mind foggy but he wants to take his time with her, not have a quick fuck in the copy room and never again after that.

“Didn’t know if you wanted it, too,” he breathes, warm breath fanning across her lips and she reaches up blindly to kiss him again. Her eyes are hooded, lips swollen, and Rhysand’s fucked at the sight of her. 

“I do want to, if it wasn’t already obvious,” she groans shyly, a heavy heat sitting on her cheeks and he chuckles, ego inflating as his cock pulses in his pants.

“I’m gonna fuck you so good, baby,” he promises and her eyes light up before she lets him finish his sentence. “But not here, not now. I want to take my time with you,” he rumbles through his chest, cupping her cheeks again and Y/N pouts breathlessly, her once confident demeanour slowly shifting and she feels a little small under his gaze.

“Fuck me now and take your time with me later,” she bargains, not even the slightest bit ashamed of how forward and desperate she’s letting herself seem. 

He’s no better. The second the words slip from her lips, he’s kissing her again; harder than before. It’s desperate; needy and raw. His fingers are tugging her shirt down and her breasts spill over and out of her bra.

Y/N’s head falls back as he tweaks a taut nipple between his thumb and forefinger, pinching and twisting as he continues his assault down her lean neck. She’s letting breathy whimpers slip past her lips as her head rolls against her shoulder. Y/N scratches at his back, tugging off his suit jacket and he throws it across the boxed room.

Rhys dips his head from her neck, kissing across her clavicle and nipping at her collarbones. He massages hungry open-mouthed kisses across the swell of her tits, circling her pearled nipple with his skilled tongue and she shudders as he envelopes his lips around it, suckling softly and flicking his tongue.

“Rhys,” she breathes in a wanton pant. 

He feels his cock bloat at the sound of his name slipping past her lips in a desperate whimper. Hearing her shudder his name as he latches on her nipple is something he didn’t know he needed to hear.

“Best tits I‘ve ever seen,” he mumbles as he pulls off her with a kiss to her areola, biting at her cleavage. 

Y/N’s fingers are desperately fumbling with his tie, tugging it loose and popping open a few buttons. Rhysand doesn’t give her the time or chance to open more than two before he’s shoving her tiny lace panties to the side and swirling his middle finger through her dripping folds.

Rhys groans at the feel of her; soft and warm, completely fucking drenched. The tip of his finger teases at her hole, swirling around her soaked folds but she wants more, needs it. He seems to sense her desperation because, without a second longer of anticipation, he pushes his finger in and massages at her squishy walls.

He splutters pathetically against her chest, his grip on her hip tightening as he slowly pumps his digit in and out of her dripping heat. 

“Oh shit, you’re so tight,” he groans, completely fucking mesmerised by the way her little pussy is clenching onto him. 

He wonders if his cock will even fit. She shudders breathlessly, thighs willing to clench shut but he doesn’t let them.

His fingers are much longer than hers; hitting deeper than she’s ever able to in the dead of night when she can’t sleep. Her head falls back and Rhysand latches his lips onto her neck, pulling out so his fingertip rests at her hole before he lunges back in with a second digit.

They’re twisting in a ‘come hither’ motion, pads of his fingertips massaging at her squishy spot and she’s quivering and trembling under his touch. Her clit feels like it’s on fire, angry and desperate from the neglect it’s facing so she sneaks a hand between their bodies, holding her weight on one arm as she leans back, and offers herself a pinch of relief.

It’s a filthy fucking sight for Rhys to be privy to; watching her little fingers rub deliciously at her soaked, swollen clit. He’s painfully hard but fuck, he wants to see her cum all over his hand before he releases his bloated cock. 

“Fuck, Rhysand… oh shit,” she’s gasping frantically, legs twitching and toes curling.

He can’t help but wonder how long it’s been since someone last touched her this good. He’s only had his hands on her for a couple of minutes and he can feel how close she is to her tipping point, how badly she needs to explode. He wonders if he’s about to make her cum harder than she ever has before.

She’s getting loud, too vocal for them to get away with the quick rendezvous they’re playing at. It’s when he tests the waters and scissors his fingers before picking up his pace that she falls uncontrollable with the desperate cries and filthy whines. 

He has no other choice than to shove her until her back is pressed against the desk and he’s leaning over her trembling body to press a hand over her mouth.

Y/N’s muffled moans vibrate against his palm and he watches the delicious sight with a deep hunger in his eyes. His teeth are gritted, breaths and grunts seething between them at the sight of her tits bouncing across her chest. 

“Cum, gonna cum!” he hears her muffled voice beg into his hand, a smug grin tugging helplessly at the corners of his lips and he coaxes it out of her.

“That’s it, baby. Cum for me. Gonna cum all over my fingers like a good girl? My good girl?” he spurs her on, eyes rolling at the sensation of her tiny pussy spasming around his thick fingers and fuck, he’s sure he’s about to cum in his pants over it.

Y/N thrashes against the table, chasing her high as he finger fucks her through it. The sounds are obscene; muffled pleas and filthy squelching noises that sound from her messy cunt.

He slows his pace and lets her calm from her orgasm, nosing through her chest and he smears his parted lips across her tits, his tongue sitting on his bottom lip as he does so. Rhysand suckles gently on her pearled nipple as he moves his hand from her mouth and she’s tangling her fingers in his hair, deep breaths causing her chest to ripple.

Y/N’s eyes are fluttering, dazed and overwhelmed and they both know her legs are still trembling in the after-shock. She’s still desperate, though – inhibitions out the window and she no longer wants to play coy or hard to get. She wants his cock and she wants it shoved so deep inside of her that she won’t be able to walk for weeks.

“Please,” she murmurs through half-lidded eyes. Rhys’ brows furrow gently as he pulls off her chest, licking his lips and trying to chase her wanton gaze. When he finally does, he notices just how flushed and fucked she is. He’s a little taken back, if he’s honest. He knows the effect he has on women in the bedroom, but none quite like this for a quick fingerbang in the copy room.

Rhysand reaches for her face, cupping her jaw in his palm and she finally meets his eyes. She’s blinking back rose-tinted hues of arousal to try and see him clearer, but even when her vision isn’t stained with lust, he still looks ravishing and it’s painful.

“Please, what, Miss Y/L/N?” he teases.

Rhysand’s got a sick grin on his face at the way her entire body shudders at his tone and choice of words. She’s a whimpering mess again but he’s barely got his hands on her – one on her hip and the other cupping her jaw. 

“Use your words,” he coaxes. Her lashes flutter angelically across her cheekbones and her lips blabber open and closed like a helpless fish out of water.

“Fuck, need you inside of me. Want your cock.” Y/N’s shuddering at her own choice of words. She’s always loved a bit of dirty talk but not once has it ever really come into play with past partners and if she’s honest, she feels way too shy and filthy. But she fucking loves it.

She loves the way he takes a deep breath – the way he growls to himself to try and fix his composure. She thinks he’s about to give into her, pound her raw and have her sobbing for more, baby, please, I need more! But what she gets is the complete opposite.

Rhysand’s lips hover over her ear, nosing at her neck on his way up before he’s nibbling his way across her jaw until his lips ghost hers.

“Not when you’re so fucked out, Princess. Let me come home with you tonight, back to your place. I’ll be your company,” he nips at her bottom lip, nosing at her jaw again and her head flutters back for a moment, eyes rolling. 

“My place? But my – my friend is there…” she trails off breathlessly, struggling to keep her grip on reality when Rhys begins to suck a bruise against her neck.

He pulls away with a sly grin, eyes hooded and dark and her lashes flutter as she drinks him in. He reaches forward and nips at her bottom lip again. “I know.”

//

She’s nervous as she climbs into his car. He insisted he drive them home and back to work tomorrow morning, which means he plans on staying the night and Y/N is not opposed to that in the slightest. 

But her nerves are getting the best of her when he reaches across the console and lets his hand rest on her thigh, squeezing generously and gnawing on his own bottom lip.

Her mind is working so hard on overdrive that she can’t even focus on one thing to worry about. Rhysand on the other hand, has one thing on his mind and one thing only. Her. 

Excitement is rushing through his veins and he’s sure he can hear his heartbeat in his ears. Blood is rushing to his thick cock and all he can think about is her sweet pussy and how it’ll taste when he has her sitting on his face; the only seat she’ll ever want and need.

They make it to her townhouse in no time and she’s clambering out of the car before he has the chance to switch the engine off. He knows she’s just as nervous as she is excited but he doesn’t say anything on the matter – at least, not yet. 

He follows her up the steps to the door, arms shaking around her waist and he kisses across the exposed expanse of her neck, flicking his tongue over the fresh bruise that’s darkened as the day dwindled on.

Neither of them seem to care that it’s still partly daylight and wandering eyes are no doubt watching on with sickening glances and judgemental stares. Y/N struggles to unlock the front door, too busy trying not to roll her head back in pleasure and anticipation. She loosens up a little as he licks wet stripes up her neck, nibbling on the tender skin and the second the door is open, he’s pinning her against it as it slams shut behind them.

His mouth is on her neck, suckling and licking his way up to her jaw, nipping at the curved edge before he licks across the shell of her ear. “Gonna have you dripping on my cock and screaming in my mouth, Princess,” he promises. His tone is dirty, dark and raspy and Y/N’s thinks she’s ready to submit to absolutely anything he fucking wants.

She’s pathetic, really – nodding frantically – eager to please. She doesn’t make an effort to hurry them to her bedroom. She’s too caught in the moment Rhysand thinks he wants to have her friend catch her being fucked roughly against her front door, let him know she’s already being treated as good as it fucking gets.

“Please, Rhys. Need it so bad, please,” she blabbers wetly. 

He kisses her quickly; hot and sticky. Their tongues are dancing a frantic rhythm but their lips still manage to mould and fit like puzzle pieces. Rhysand’s hands are hot on her waist, trailing up her body until he cups beneath the swell of her pretty tits.

“Please, what? What do you need, my love?” he coaxes, suckling on her bottom lip and she’s got half a mind to push him to his knees and hike her thighs over his shoulders. But she doesn’t have the will power or the guts and she’d much rather him dominate the absolute shit out of her.

His demeaning tone has her shaking – nimble fingers trying to tug and claw at the expensive blazer of his suit. She doesn’t know if it excites or frustrates him, but it does spur him on to tear her pretty blouse open and rip her bra in two. 

He ignores her shriek of shock and latches his wet mouth to her tit, sucking her hardened nipple between his lips and rolling his tongue across it.

Y/N’s head rolls back and knocks against the front door, wanton whimpers and yelps shrieking from her throat. Rhysand spares no expense – he’s grunting and moaning, coursing vibrations and shrills through her body that has her pulsing core blazing. She feels like she’s on fire and Rhysand feels like a starving man that’s finally about to eat a three course meal.

First, he’ll make her cum with his fingers. Then with his cock. And for dessert, he’ll have her on his face while he laps up everything else she has to offer. But Rhys doesn’t take into consideration that maybe she wants to taste him, too.

“Need your cock in my mouth.”

The filthy admission takes him back and for a split second, he’s stunned. Rhys halts his attack on her chest and leans back to get a proper look at her. Y/N’s eyes are blazing a fiery red, one that screams need and touch. She’s fucked, utterly. Messy hair and smeared lip gloss across the lower half of her face.

His own eyes are hooded as he watches her very slowly slide down the door. Her knees are bending and he knows what’s coming, what she’s trying to do. Rhysand has half a mind to stop her, to remind her who’s in charge and that he just wants to taste her, to make her feel good. 

The other half tells him to tear out her hair band and hold her hair and head in place with his fist, tells him to let her stuff her mouth with his length by the front door and pray and hope her friend just so happens to be home.

Her shaky hands are unbuckling his belt, tugging down his zipper. Her knees hit the entrance carpet and she reaches back behind her to tug her hair completely loose from her elastic. Rhysand watches, chin meeting his chest, as she massages out the kinks before throwing it over her shoulder.

He can’t stop staring at her as she tugs his pants down just enough to palm over the thick and hard bulge in his boxers. He makes no effort to bite back a grunt and the soft whine that follows. Rhys’ eyes are on her but she’s got her gaze focussed on his clothed cock.

Y/N leans forward, nosing at his thick length. Her mouth is parted; bottom lip dragging a wet strip across the expensive, cotton material as she makes her way up for the little strip of thin hairs that dust down to his sweet spot. When she gets to the top of the elastic, her tongue slips from her mouth and a bold, wet stripe is licked fatly up to his bellybutton.

She feels him shudder, hands on the fronts of his thighs and they creep up to the waistband of his boxers. Rhysand’s got one hand tangled in her hair, blunt nails scratching at her scalp and the other is leaning against her front door, supporting his crushing weight up.

“Are you gonna take all of me, baby?” he coaxes. 

Spit begins to well in her mouth as she tugs his boxers down and she’s finally face to face with her boss’ thick, long cock. He’s massive, that much she’s certain of and the way his tip glistens an angry pink proves he’s just as eager as she is. She wonders if he’s been as hard since the copy room earlier today.

Rhysand’s tugging at her hair, trying to get her to focus on the situation at hand rather than ogling at his cock. He usually wouldn’t mind, but right now he’s far too desperate to be lodged down her warm throat to think about anything else. His cock twitches as it slaps at his lower abdomen, leaving damp trails of precum in his tip’s wake.

It’s standing tall when Y/N leans forward on her knees. She’s got her palms bracing her weight on his thick thighs and her tongue sits on her bottom lip, licking a bold and wide strip up the entire eight inches of his thick length. Rhysand’s grunting when her tongue swirls around his head before she’s suckling the soft flesh into her mouth.

Her cheeks are softly hollowed and gentle hums of approval sound around him at the salty taste that sits heady on her tongue. Her lips are stretched around his puffy head, the actual width of him nearly choking her but fuck, if she doesn’t love it with every ounce of her dirty little soul.

She’s got those innocent doe eyes staring up at him while she suckles on his length. Relaxing her throat to take him a little deeper, Y/N pumps in a firm fist what she can’t fit; twisting her wrist. 

Rhys can’t keep his fucking eyes off her – puffy lips swollen and stretched and if he sees another dribble of saliva drip from her lips and down the valley of her tits, he’s gonna cum straight down her throat.

“Fuck, such a good mouth. So fucking good, Princess,” he goads. 

He’s gnawing hard on his bottom lip, mouth salivating at the sight of his pretty little secretary on her knees with her mouth stuffed with his cock. Rhysand can’t help his ego from inflating when she lets him guide his hips until he hits the back of her throat, choking her lightly and she splutters around his length.

It’s filthy – the noises her mouth and his cock are making – but Rhysand’s living for it. Pools and dribbles of saliva and precum are spilling and bubbling from the corners of her mouth and the swells of her tits are soaked from it alone. She’s comfy on her knees now and takes her free hand from his thigh to tug his pants and boxers down further.

She’s picked up her pace, sucking harder and fisting the few inches she can’t take. Y/N’s hand snakes further down and reaches around a little until she’s cupping and massaging his aching balls, coaxing the release she knows he’s about to give her. His taste is getting saltier on her tongue and his hips are staggering with each gentle thrust he offers into her throat.

Rhys’ grip on her hair is hard and tight, knuckles bumping at her skull as he tries to drill her head closer to him, to force more of him down her throat. As much as she tries to relax herself, she can’t take him all and she wants nothing more than to bury her nose in the short hairs that lead from his bellybutton to his shaft.

“Such a good girl for me. Sucking me so fucking well, gonna cum,” he warns and praises the young woman and she comes off him with a frantic gasp. 

Her eyes are watering and his cock is soaked, but that doesn’t stop her from spitting the rest of his arousal on his length and pumping him as quickly as she can.

She’s got that confidence about her again as she focuses on his tip, fisting both hands around his throbbing cock as she smears her swollen lips across his sensitive head. She smacks it against her tongue, offering hollow sucks to guide him over the edge.

Rhys’ got his forehead resting against the door and he’s grunting and groaning, biting back animalistic moans. He can’t wrap his head around it, the most sloppy and incredible blowjob he’s ever had. 

“Wanna taste it. Cum, Rhysand,” she whines greedily, one hand leaving his cock to tear her blouse open just enough for her tits to spill out of it. “Cum all over my tits, baby.”

His orgasm washes over him with a heady grunt and hot spurts of white ribbons that smother her tits perfectly. She’s standing on her knees, using the tip of his aching cock as a paintbrush to smear his cum across her lustful chest. He’s smashing his head against the door, trying to blink away the orgasmic-bliss he’s been thrown in and take a grip of reality again.

When he finally looks down at her, stepping back a little from the door, he’s panting and twitching and she’s licking her lips clean. Y/N’s got that innocent sparkle sitting in her eyes again. Rhysand has to shake his head and let out an exasperated laugh. He’s smoothing down her tangled and matted hair and guiding her back to her feet.

“So fucking sexy,” he groans when he takes note of her cum-smothered tits. 

His lips are smearing against hers greedily, and there’s something so exciting and erotic about tasting himself on her sweet tongue. Her hands are soaked and sticky but she still tangles them in his hair to kiss him harder.

She’s too fucking horny to feel shy or embarrassed about what she’s just done against her front door. “Gonna fuck me now? Thought you promised me you’d fuck me with your cock?” she whispers tauntingly against his lips and he grins, still completely fucked out.

Even though he’s painfully hard again, he doesn’t have it in him to sheath himself in her tight little cunt just yet. He’s got stamina, but his poor cock can’t recover from a blinding orgasm like that too quickly. He nods, hands on her ass and he’s groping like a starved man. 

“And I will, Princess. But you got a taste of me, it’s only fair I get a taste of you, don’t you think?” he teases.

She’s putty in his hands, though – nodding breathlessly as her nose bumps his. She can feel his hard cock against her middle and he gives her pert ass a spank, enticing a high whine from her raw lips. 

“Suppose you better show me to your room then, my love… unless you want your friend to come and watch?” he offers, like he wouldn’t be opposed in the slightest.

If Rhysand’s honest, maybe he wouldn’t. Maybe he’d gladly let her friend watch him absolutely ruin her tight cunt.

“Put your cock in your pants,” she breathes, the firm order doing nothing but coaxing dribbles of precum from his dick. He shoves himself back in his boxers but makes no attempt to button up his trousers while she covers her chest again.

Y/N’s got her hand in his as she leads him up the steps of her townhouse, hips swaying more than usual and Rhysand knows, but he’s too horny to tease her for it. All he can think about is having that ass sat on his face and he’s salivating at the thought of her taste.

He doesn’t take in the decor on the walls or the frilly rug on the floor of the hall. He doesn’t even take in the style of her bedroom when she shoves him inside and kicks the door closed. Rhysand, instead, is too busy tearing her blouse open and ignoring the buttons skidding across her oak floors.

She’s no better, eager to get him naked and claw at his tattooed chest. They’re both naked in seconds, hands all over the other in a desperate attempt to get off. She’s guiding him to her bed, tits in his face and he paws at her breasts as she straddles his lap. She expects him to pin her down, to devour her little cunt but he doesn’t.

He kisses her lips and grips her thighs – laying on his back with his head on her pillow and tugging her up his body and she starts to get the hint when she stops on his chest. Rhysand’s frowning, kneading at her thighs and jutting his chin in the air a little.

“Told you I wanted a taste, now come and sit on your throne, Princess.” She’s giddy with excitement and arousal, head cloudy and she lets him guide her up the rest of his body. 

Her entire pussy is slick and swollen when her knees rest either side of his head. He loops his arms around her legs and rests his hands on her ass, squeezing and massaging her cheeks.

“Fucking look at you, baby. So wet and so soft,” he coos, craning his head up to suck bruises on her thighs. Y/N’s got her fingers tangled in his messy dark locks and when he spreads her ass apart, she falls a little and her soaked cunt sits on his face.

Rhysand’s mouth wastes no time, sucking and licking and nibbling at her hole and clit. He’s swirling wet strokes through her folds, deep and long. Her sweet scent is heavy on his tongue and he’s got his eyes squeezed shut in pure bliss. Y/N is a mess above him – head thrown back and fingers tugging at his unruly locks.

“Oh my God,” she whines, breathing erratically but Rhysand’s having the time of his life. 

She shudders as he brings a hand down on her ass, her meaty flesh jiggling before he’s grabbing it again and pulling her apart and further up his face. He’s got a knot in his brow, tongue circling at her weeping hole and he can’t get enough of her taste.

“So good, so fucking good. Don’t stop,” she begs, desperate and eager. 

Rhys lets his tongue trail up the length of her pussy until the flatness of his tongue is rubbing at her swollen clit, enticing moan after filthy moan to slip from her silky tongue. He wraps his mouth around her little nub, sucking and nibbling and she’s seeing stars.

Y/N can’t seem to catch her breath and she’s rolling her hips on his face like she fucking owns him. Rhysand comes off her clit with a little pop, open-mouthed kisses smeared over her dripping cunt and he sucks a swollen lip into his mouth, biting teasingly and she gasps into the dim room.

Her nipples have puckered in the cool air and one hand leaves his head to tweak and pinch at one of the neglected nubs. She’s trembling on his face, thighs clenching around his head as he kneads and spanks at her ass. Rhysand’s grunting deliciously into her cunt, sending vibrations through the woman’s core and egging her on.

He knows she’s close, knew he wouldn’t have to be between her thighs for too long after she came so quickly from his fingers earlier in the copy room, but that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t gladly spend hours devouring her. She’s sweet – sweeter than he hoped and expected – and it’s better than any feeling he’s ever had before. Sweet like watermelon with a tangy hint.

It’s fucking intoxicating and when she cums, it only tastes better. “I’m cuming, oh shit, oh God…” Y/N can’t think straight. 

Her vision is blinding by streaking light that blocks her sight and the wanton and borderline pornographic moans are music to Rhysand’s ears. She’s shaking, body jolting and when Rhys opens his eyes to watch her unravel on his tongue, all he sees is her head rolling back and the underswell of her tits bouncing before her back coils and she hunches into herself.

He’s lapping her of every single last drop she has, desperate to have her taste lingering on his tongue for as long as he possibly can. His cock is overly bloated and sticky as precum sticks to his lower abdomen but maybe his ego is even more bloated, knowing he didn’t even have to use his fingers to get her quivering and begging above him.

“Fuck,” she gasps in a slow drawl. 

Her voice is deep and raspy, like she’s seething as she tries to catch her breath and stop the shakes from taking over in her post-orgasmic state. Rhysand’s kitten licking her softly, moving his head to bite playfully at the thickness of her inner thighs and he traces over a soft, faded stretch mark with his tongue.

“Sweetest fucking pussy I‘ve ever tasted,” he groans in approval. 

Rhys maneuvers them both so she’s pressed against the mattress, and even in her fucked-out, overly-blissed state, she’s still whining and eager for his cock again. She’s insatiable and Rhysand can’t help the amused chuckle that slips from his lips.

“So fucking desperate, Princess,” he taunts.

He takes a moment to admire her, take her all in. Her pussy is swollen, soaked still and he can almost see her clit pulsing as her hole clenches. Her chest is rattling in deep breaths and her eyes are lidded heavily as she creeps her foot up his thigh, reaching for his hard cock.

He hums appreciatively, spreading her bent knees open and crawling between her legs again. He’s got a hand resting by her head to support his weight – the other gripping her chin in his hold and he forces her mouth open as he lets saliva well in his mouth.

She gets the hint, knows what he’s about to do and she’s desperate to get a taste of herself from him. Y/N’s tongue falls out flat on her bottom lip, eyes a little wider and she holds his firm gaze when he spits on her tongue and forces her mouth closed again. 

The sweetness of her arousal is heavy in her mouth and she swallows what he offered before her lips part again and her tongue is licking up at his stubbly chin, reaching for his lips.

Rhysand’s eyes are blazing, dick twitching against her thigh and he kisses her hard, teeth clashing and tongues dancing an uncoordinated rhythm, but it works. Y/N suckles on his tongue as he groans, pinching at her nipple before he reaches down to palm his cock some.

“Need to get a condom,” he breathes into her mouth but she’s shaking her head. He leaves his cock and reaches for her cunt, attending to her fiery clit that’s far too sensitive but she welcomes the touch, nonetheless. 

“Wanna feel you,” she admits, no shame in the embarrassingly desperate statement and Rhysand thinks he’s about to fucking explode on her cunt before he even gets a proper feel of it.

He wants to, needs to feel her slick and velvety walls hug and suck him in, wants to be consumed by her heat and arousal but even in his lust-filled state, his brain is still turned on. He shakes his head painfully. 

“Next time,” he offers, doesn’t miss the way Y/N’s eyes light up at the insinuation but she nods with a desperate, laboured breath.

She reaches to her side for her nightstand, retrieving a foil packet from the top drawer and she rips it open with her teeth before Rhysand can take it from her. His eyes are wide when she tugs it from the packaging and reaches down for his cock. She pinches the tip of the condom and rolls it over his thick head, sliding it slick down his shaft and he’s grunting in pleasure over the act.

“Fuck. You’re so sexy,” he mutters gruffly against her lips and she whimpers, eyes rolling back at the sheer tone of his voice. Her legs are spread wide as he reaches for his cock and rubs himself up and down her folds a few times.

Y/N’s giddy with excitement, pussy clenching in anticipation and he slowly rolls his hips forward, his fat tip nudging through the tight entrance ring of her pussy and she shudders a gentle shriek at the obvious intrusion.

“Oh, fuck!” she gasps out. 

Her chest is already heaving when he begins to sheath himself in, spreading her wide and drilling in deep. Y/N’s eyes have rolled to the back of her head and her toes have curled inwardly and just how much he’s filling her up.

Rhysand’s no better – teeth gritted and eyes clenched shut. His grip on her hips have his knuckles turning white but neither of them seem to mind the bruises that’ll be apparent in the morning. She’s tight around him, warm and slick and even with the condom, he can feel every pulse her pussy offers.

Rhys rolls his hips slowly, getting her used to his thick girth and generous length. Y/N’s clawing at his shoulders with each soft whine until his pace begins to pick up and the bed starts to rock. Her tits are bouncing on her chest, nipples hard and desperate for a good sucking.

He manoeuvres his body to lean his head down, biting on her hard nub and sucking. “Shit, you’re so fucking big, oh my God,” she praises through a strangled moan. He’s snapping his hips, grunting and smirking against her slobbery tits. 

His tongue is flicking over her nipple in quick strokes as his teeth bite softly but she’s keening at the blissful shoots of pain.

“Tight pussy, baby. Tightest fucking pussy I‘ve ever had.” He pops off her breast and smears his lips against hers. 

She can still taste him on her tongue and the feel of his lips on hers is overwhelming. His thick cock is brushing against all the good spots and she can’t wrap her head around how sex could ever feel this good.

“Faster, please, faster. Just like that,” she begs out through another broken moan. He’s seething through gritted teeth as he wills back his animalistic grunts, drills his hips in quicker thrusts and the wet squelches of his cock and her pussy is music to both of their ears.

“Hear that? Hear how fucking wet you are?” he teases, leaning back and shuffling until he’s on his knees between her quaking thighs. “Fuck, you fit me so fucking good, Princess.” He’s gnawing down on his bottom lip, likely drawing blood but he can’t bring himself to care.

Y/N’s got her head thrown back in her pillows, eyes rolled to the back of her head as her lashes flutter like angel wings. “This cunt was fucking made for me,” he growls through gritted teeth as he releases his lower lip. She’s nodding helplessly at his words, crying out in pure ecstasy at the filth he’s talking and she fucking loves it.

“All yours, Rhys. Pussy’s all yours,” she agrees quickly. 

Her voice is broken, high pitched and whiney. Rhysand thinks it’s borderline pornographic and it only makes his cock throb in her cunt. “Fuck,” he seethes, watching the way her full breasts bounce on her chest.

He lets his gaze avert to where they meet – where his thick cock is drilling into her cunt and fucking her into the mattress. He’s completely slick with every thrust that has his dick pulling out of her. His balls are slapping against her ass, slick with her wetness that leaks from her tight hole and even both their thighs are growing sticky from her arousal and their sweat.

Between them, they’re eager messes, desperate for a hot release and it’s haunting the both of them. Rhysand can feel her cunt clench tenderly around him and Y/N can feel his cock twitching between her soft walls. 

“Fuck, can feel you squeezing me baby, making you feel good, Princess?” He knows he’s making her feel fucking heavenly but the narcassist in him needs to hear that bit of praise.

She’s nodding frantically, eager to give him what he wants to hear. “Yes, fuck, yes! So good, Rhys. I love your cock, makes me feel so fucking full.” She’s moaning through every word, sentence broken by wanton cries and pornographic whines. She’s fucking filthy, dribble running down the corners of her lips as she speaks.

Rhysand’s fucked, can feel his release toppling close to the edge but he needs to feel her cum around him first. “Yeah? You like me buried in your tight little cunt, my love? Like feeling me in your fucking tummy?” He sets a firm palm across her stomach, adding just enough pressure to feel himself nudge at her lower abdomen and his head is spinning.

“More, please. I’m gonna fucking cum, Rhys. Make me cum on your cock, make me cum, please.” She’s begging through desperate tears and Rhysand’s ego is through the fucking roof. His eyes are rolling back at the sound of her broken pleads and he leans closer.

He’s got one hand holding his weight by her head, the other locking around her throat. He watches for a moment, still pounding into her, to see if she tells him to stop, tells him she doesn’t like that. But she reaches up and tightens his hold on her throat and her other hand snakes between them to rub feverishly at her swollen clit.

“Harder,” she demands, voice steady and dark and there’s a primal instinct that washes over Rhysand that tells him to fucking obliterate her. He’s choking her as his cock tears into her, weeping in the condom and Y/N’s sobbing beneath him.

Her thighs begin to tremble, eyes rolled right back and she feels like she’s floating. “I’m cuming! Rhys, I’m gonna cum!” Her body convulses under his touch and waves of bliss roll over her. She’s cumming around his cock, shaking and sobbing and whining like a dirty little girl and Rhysand’s living for it.

He fucks her through her state of bliss, grip still tight on her throat until he feels her calm down and he’s ready to explode. Even in her blissed out state, Y/N knows what she wants. She suckles on his thumb as he grips her jaw and takes her spare hand to push him back just enough to pull his cock out of her cunt.

With hooded eyes and swollen lips, she peels off the condom and tosses it to the side. Rhysand’s eyes are blown wide, brows knitted and even in her hazy state she can see how desperate his cock is for a relief.

He’s hissing when she wraps a hand around his wet length and lazily starts pumping his shaft. “If you can’t come in my pussy, I want your cum all over it.” His head falls back at the admission, cock twitching in her hand and it only takes a few futile pumps before she’s smearing his tip across her swollen clit and he’s cumming.

Hot ribbons of clear-ish cum paint her cunt, spilling across her folds and clit in desperate spurts. “Fuck, oh shit. So good, such a good fucking girl,” he’s praising in broken moans and wanton whines.

Y/N’s pussy clenches around nothing as she watches his thick cock slowly soften to one of a slightly smaller size. They’re both fucked out as Rhysand catches his breath and falls to her side, panting and heaving with a sweaty and heavy chest.

She can barely keep her eyes open, thighs still trembling from her post-orgasmic state and Rhysand’s trying to come to terms with what just happened. He’s too infatuated to scold himself for fucking a damn employee. For fucking his secretary.

He can hear her heavy breathing from beside her and he peeks a look, watching her eyes flutter as she stares up at her ceiling. He holds his breath in hopes of hearing any movement on the other side of the bedroom door but all he can hear is his heart hammering through his body.

He takes a heaving breath and looks back up at the ceiling. “You think your friend might’ve heard us?” He speaks up, breaking the silence. He hears her breath stagger and silence before she lets out an uneven sigh and he can feel her chest shaking.

Rhysand turns to her with pinched brows and she’s grinning with eyes squinted shut. “What? What are you laughing at?” She’s giggling again and Rhys sits up to get a better look at her. She’s thoroughly fucked out.

“I don’t have a friend staying with me,” she admits shyly through a broken laugh and it takes Rhysand a hot second to grasp onto what she’s just said. When he does, his eyes widen and jaw falls slack, smirk tugging on the corners of his parted lips.

Y/N turns to him, running a hand through his matted hair and she gnaws on her bottom lip, staring into his fucked out eyes. “Just wanted to try and get you in my bed,” she confesses.

They’re both grinning; Y/N letting out a squealed shriek as Rhysand pounces on top of her and pins her hands above her head, nosing and biting at her jaw and neck. His eyes are gleaming nothing but mischief as his nose knocks hers and he notices the fire in her eyes.

He nips at her lips. “You lied to me? To get me in your bed like I‘m some sort of cheap hooker?” He’s teasing her now and the banter has her stomach flipping. Y/N shrugs, feigning nonchalance, eyes blazing and she licks into his mouth. 

“Worked though, didn’t it?”

Rhysand pulls away from her lips just enough to see the look on her face. She’s shy under his gaze, innocent eyes staring up at him but there’s still that flash of filth and cheekiness that’s loitering behind them and when she gnaws on her bottom lip, Rhysand can’t help but feel completely fucked.

“You little minx.”

let me know what you thought!!

[bluebeary-jay]

That funny feeling

Joel Miller x f!Reader

Summary: pet names are something that's equally very easy and very hard for Joel (based on this request!)

Tags: established relationship, F-L-U-F-F, a grain of angst, idiots in love, a lot of overthinking uGH, mutual dumbassery, love deprived (& soft) Joel, i'm playing with the timeline here a bit, alsoo suggestive undertones hehe

Warnings: swearing and miscommunication, and nothing more ig

Word count: 3.6K

A/N: i'm finally feeling okay!! it took a while and i'm sorry for the wait. as always i hope you all will like what i came up with, and thank you again dear for requesting 💕

One of the things you noticed during those first few months of being in a relationship with Joel – and one which probably surprised you the most – was his fondness for using endearments when he was addressing you.

He called you by many names – darlin’, sweetheart and baby were just a tip of the iceberg.

And you adored it. Every single one of them.

How could you not when those pet names sounded so precious in that low and gruff voice of his? When the fact that he chose to let you get a glimpse at his softer side made you feel so special? 

He clearly liked doing this, too – and, as you suspected, watching your reaction when you received them. The tug of his lips and that dimple you so loved were an indicator enough that he wasn’t doing it out of obligation or because it was somehow expected of him.

Another thing that surprised you was how casual he was about it. Having not been in a proper relationship before made you feel out of your depth here, but from what you gathered, neither was he. At least for some time.

And yet, he seemed to have no problem or reservations about addressing you this way. He started even before he kissed you for the first time. You suspected that back then it was his strategy to show you – without voicing his intentions out loud – how he felt about you. It worked, somehow (because how were you supposed to resist that southern charm of his?), and once you both settled who you want to be for one another, it was like a switch flipped inside him.

But instead of turning it off, it only amplified his new habit and added more love and tenderness to the tone of his voice when he was calling you pet names.

You certainly were not complaining – especially when Joel was muttering those sweet words in a raspy voice into your skin when you were just waking up, or whispering them in your ear when you were passing each other during the day, brushing his hand against your waist.

So it was probably no surprise that you wanted to return the favor. The longer you were with each other, the more you wondered about what it would be like to call Joel by one of those endearments he used for you. If he would smile, if his eyes would crinkle in that adorable way…

Something was stopping you, though. Every time you were in public and Joel wasn’t currently looking at you, you were reminded of what kind of man you thought he was before you actually got to know him. His expression, the look in his eyes and his very presence were so intimidating that it gave you a pause each time. You knew he was a sweet, loving soul inside and it wasn’t like he’d be offended by being called by an affectionate nickname, or like your relationship would spiral down because of that.

…right?

What you did know, however, was that Joel Miller was a caretaker. A giver. And you wanted to take care of him, too, to make him feel as loved and cherished as he was making you feel – something you hadn’t a clue if you were doing right due to your own inexperience.

So one day, while you were tending to horses in the stables – one of your responsibilities in Jackson – you finally decided to stop overthinking and just… do what feels right to you. You were two grown-ass people. If anything happens – but probably nothing will – you’ll talk it out like adults.

You got lost in your own thoughts as you absent-mindedly brushed the coat of one of the horses. Suddenly, your attention was drawn by the animal neighing loudly but before you could look up, two strong arms embraced you from behind and a pair of lips pressed themselves to your neck.

You squealed in surprise, and then burst into giggles, when you felt Joel’s beard tickling your skin as he planted tender kisses on your neck, going down to your shoulder.

“Mornin’, sweetheart.”

It was not morning, but you haven’t seen him at all today since he left very early to help Tommy and some other men build a new storage house near the main street. As usual, you planned on meeting him when you’re done in the stables, but you were more than happy that he chose to surprise you.

“Hi,” you giggled. You tried to turn around to face him, but Joel grumbled and held you tighter to his chest, so you settled for putting your hand on the back of his head in an awkward half-hug. “You have some nerve coming here after you left me so rudely in the morning.”

He let out a sound between a groan and a chuckle.

“I tried to say goodbye, but you were out cold.”

“You didn’t try hard enough, then.”

“Fine. Next time I’ll shake you awake.” He pressed his lips to your pulse, planting a soft kiss there, and then another one a little bit lower, murmuring into your skin. “But you wouldn’t do that either if you were me and had an angel in your bed.”

You blew a raspberry and shook your head, making him hum against your neck with a smile. “Too much?”

“Just a little.” You turned around in his arms, and he dropped his head on your shoulder. “How’s work going?”

The man sighed heavily.

“It’s goin’. But I swear to God, Tommy gets more insufferable the sooner due date is. He almost lost it when some of the materials went missin’.”

“Well, it’s understandable with a little Miller on the way,” you replied, ruffling the hair on the back of his head and making Joel give you the stink eye. You scrunched your nose at him teasingly. “Get that pout off your face, mister, and better start thinking about what we’re watching tonight. My place, right?”

“Mhm.” He opened his mouth to say something else, but then angled his head to the side. There was a distant shouting from the direction of the road and you could faintly hear Tommy’s voice among the noise. Joel took a deep breath and his warm eyes met yours. “Alright, I better go before he does somethin’ stupid again. I’ll meet you tonight after guitar practice with Ellie.”

“Don’t be late again or I won’t let you in this time,” you said sweetly and a smirk danced on his lips.

“You’re annoyin’, you know that?” Joel leaned in and gave you a quick kiss on the lips, and then a lingering one on your forehead. “I’ll be on time, promise.”

You smiled and pushed his chest gently, letting him know that he should get back to his brother. He laughed – this actual rare and heartfelt laugh of his, which reminded you yet again how much you loved him – and took a couple of steps back.

“I’m holding you to it, handsome. Now go.”

Joel started to turn around, but then came to a sudden stop as soon as he heard you. It came out a bit awkward because he was mid-step and his feet kind of tangled up together, making him stumble before he managed to catch his balance.

You snorted and tilted your head to the side to peer at him, but his face was unreadable, almost blank. Like that rare and genuine laugh from earlier wiped all the emotions out of him.

“Hey. You okay?” you asked with a playful smile, taking in his expression. Joel looked over at you but didn’t answer, and you raised your eyebrows. “Joel?”

He parted his lips, like he wanted to say something, but no sound came out.

Something wasn’t right. His sudden silence wasn’t anything new – one of Joel’s main traits was being untalkative, though it got better since you two started dating, so you were used to it. But this was different. In his eyes there was a look of… you honestly couldn’t tell if it was awe or hurt. But you’ve never seen an expression like this on his face before.

He still didn’t say anything. You started feeling uneasy, but tried to play it off.

“Or… I could swing by Ellie’s before you two finish and–”

“I gotta go,” Joel muttered suddenly. “I’ll… see you later.”

He turned to the exit, but you quickly went around him and blocked his way with a frown. “Hey, hey, hey, wait. I’m serious now, are you okay?”

Joel glanced at you again, but then averted his eyes almost immediately. You gave him a weird look when he turned his head, as if looking for someone to get him out of here, but then a grin spread across your face when you noticed…

“Is this… Are you blushing?” you asked quietly. Joel winced and your smile got even wider. “You are! Does that–”

“I really gotta go, dar–” he stopped himself and patted your arm in a slapdash manner, not meeting your eyes. “I’ll see you later, alrigh’?”

Before you had a chance to ask or stop him, he walked away quickly, leaving you behind.

Your shoulders slumped and the smile disappeared from your face.

It wasn’t supposed to go like this.

*****

He did not see you later.

In fact, you didn’t have a chance to talk to him at all that day.

Once you finished your shift, you went looking for him but Joel wasn’t at the construction site, nor could you find him anywhere in town. You tried asking Tommy and Ellie about his whereabouts, but while his brother was as clueless as you, the teen seemed suspiciously quiet, and the second you took your eyes off her, she disappeared as well.

He didn’t come to your house that evening, and as it turned out, didn’t have guitar practice with Ellie, either. You felt a little hurt by the sudden disappearance, but ultimately decided against going to his house and invading his space when he clearly needed it.

It wasn’t until the next day that you saw the man again, but you never got a chance to ask him about what happened.

Joel came unannounced to your house and – literally and figuratively – swept you off your feet, acting a little softer and more… well, handsy than usual, but still in his normal Joel-like fashion, as if nothing ever happened. He did apologize for disappearing but it also seemed like he was trying really hard to avoid talking about yesterday altogether. So eventually you let it go.

The only explanation you could come up with was that you scared him off. Maybe it was too soon, maybe he just wasn’t okay with it – whatever the reason, it was evident he didn’t want you to bring it up.

So you decided to respect his boundaries and let the topic go. At least for now.

*****

Almost a week has passed, and you didn’t call him that again.

And fuck, if Joel wasn’t dying to hear that word from you just once more.

What he felt in that millisecond in the stables was so sudden and new – this weird, fluttery feeling in his stomach when you called him ‘handsome’ – that he honestly was at a loss how to react. Yes, he panicked (he wasn’t proud of that) and then when you pointed out the traitorous blush on his cheeks… it overwhelmed him.

Avoiding you for the rest of the day was a cowardly thing to do, but he needed some time to think about his next move before he could face you again.

He screwed up, that much was obvious. Joel didn’t know how to fix it, but he did have an idea how to make you feel comfortable enough to maybe do it again. A chance for him to react accordingly this time.

So since then, he made sure to show and tell you more often how important you were to him and how much he loved you, even though he was dying of cringe at times. His efforts were rewarding, of course – your every smile, every look in his direction was considered a win and a blessing in itself – and it seemed you forgot about his freak-out from the other day.

But you didn’t try it again.

And Joel didn’t know what to do. He’d never ask anyone for advice (God forbid Tommy ever finds out how big of a deal it was to his brother), and talking it out with you seemed like the most unattainable and impossible idea in the world.

You continued calling him by his name – and he couldn’t exactly complain when his name sounded so fucking perfect in your voice – but hell if Joel didn’t wish you try something else.

It didn’t even need to be this ‘handsome’ one you used. Any stupid nickname you come up with, he’d revel in it and this time wouldn’t chicken out.

Jesus, he had it bad. It was almost pathetic.

It wasn’t a life-changing, world-moving issue, though, and Joel wasn’t spending every waking moment thinking about shit like that. There was still work needed to be done in Jackson, he and you still had your own lifes, and… days passed.

It was just over a week later, when Joel came back home from a late-night job to find you asleep in his living room, that he thought about it again.

His heart swelled with adoration when he saw your form curled up on the couch. You must’ve been waiting for his return, but neither of you expected his work to take this long.

Joel bent over and put one arm under your knees and the other wrapped around your body, grunting at the pain in his back. You inhaled sharply when he picked you up, grumbling something incoherent.

“Shh, babygirl, it’s me,” he whispered soothingly, cradling you against his chest. “I’ll put you in bed. Or do you want to go back home?”

You made a noise of disagreement and breathed him in deeply, not opening your eyes.

“You’re late,” you slurred instead of answering him, nuzzling into his chest. Joel sighed tiredly.

“I know, baby, I’m sorry,” he whispered back. “The guys needed more help at the construction site.”

“Alright,” you mumbled again. “M’just glad you’re home now, honey.”

Joel’s feet stopped moving – gradually this time, not putting you at risk of being dropped – and he took a deep breath to tether himself before continuing his way to the bedroom.

You were asleep, he told himself while he was laying you down. It would be wrong to wake you and talk about it now. It could wait. He could wait.

Joel paused, then crouched at the head of the bed where he put you down, and delicately brushed some hair out of your forehead. His face was stoic, though those thoughts raged on like a hurricane inside his mind.

He had no idea how to do this. How to talk about this.

But he knew two things – he knew that his heart belonged to you, and that he didn’t want to settle for those pet names you accidentally muttered when half-awake, all because he was too much of a coward to admit what he wanted.

“Darlin’?”

“Hm?” you hummed, snuggling into his pillow.

Joel’s heart was beating so damn loud, he thought it was about to jump out of his chest. He took a grounding breath, brushing his knuckles against your cheek softly.

“Say that again,” he asked quietly in a raspy voice.

You made a face, keeping your eyes closed.

“I didn’t say anything.”

Joel swallowed hard and he was so nervous, he had to remind himself to unclench his jaw not to break all of his teeth.

Fucking Christ, he could take on the swarm of infected any day without losing his cool, so why was admitting stuff like this so damn difficult?

“Not now. Before. The…” he cleared his throat with embarrassment. His tongue felt like it was made of lead, and his face like it was shoved into a campfire, “pet name.”

That word finally got your attention. In a blink of an eye you were wide awake and lifted yourself on your elbows, rubbing your eyes. Joel almost regretted having said anything.

“Pet name?” you repeated, and then a shy, uncertain smile crept over your face. “Oh… I thought you said you didn’t like it.”

Don’t run, don’t you dare run now…

“I never said that,” he grumbled and furrowed his eyebrows, angry at himself that he made such a big deal out of it, that he had to talk about it now, a whole week later. You winced sheepishly.

“Well… Yeah, you didn’t, but the last time…” You sat up straight on the bed, rubbing your eyes again like you wanted to make sure you were entirely awake and focused for this conversation – which made Joel wishing even more that he had kept his mouth shut. “You ran off and I thought… I dunno, that…”

You shrugged, but you didn’t need to finish, for he understood how it must’ve looked.

Joel sighed heavily and put his forehead on your knee with fatigue. He felt your hands smoothing the shirt on his shoulders and back, and once again wondered what he did to ever deserve you.

“What do you say we don’t talk ‘bout this?” he proposed softly, feeling like a goddamn fool now. “Just… It felt nice. Good. And I want you to do it again… sometimes.”

“I want to talk about it, though.” You cupped his cheeks and lifted his head to look him in the eyes. A thought ran briefly through Joel’s mind about how fitting it was – he on his knees, looking up at you like the miracle you were. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, Joel. I just don’t understand why you didn’t tell me.”

“What do you think?” he whispered, looking away, though your hands kept his head in place. He raised one of his own to cover your fingers with his, keeping it there. “It’s… goddammit,” he swore and closed his eyes, squeezing your hand faintly. “It’s all just kinda new for me, too,” he said at last. “As dumb as it sounds.”

You swiped your thumbs over his cheekbones. “It’s not dumb.” He didn’t say anything, and after a couple of seconds you sighed. “Okay, we don’t have to discuss it if you don’t want to. Just… maybe try to give me a sign next time,” you offered gently. “I don’t always know what’s going on in that pretty head of yours.”

You were trying to lighten the atmosphere, bless your kind heart, and the corner of his lips tugged upwards despite the turmoil in his heart.

“Darlin’, that’s what I’ve been tryin’ to do for the past week. I’m not good at talkin’ but I… shit, I don’t know, I thought that if I start callin’ you like that more, it’ll… prompt you to do the same, I guess.”

At that, your hands slid off his cheeks and your face turned blank.

“Oh,” you breathed. Joel lifted his eyebrows in question and you added hurriedly: “I thought you were doing this to… I don’t know, let me know that you feel more comfortable calling me that than getting called…”

It was Joel’s turn to look at you blankly.

“Are you fuckin’ kiddin’ me?” he whispered with disbelief clear in his voice. “I tried to somehow show you that it’s fine. Do you…” he paused when you slowly started to giggle, which soon turned into a fit of laughter at the tone of his voice. “Do you have any idea how embarrassin’ it was for me at times? And not once–”

He tried to sound accusatory, but your bright smile was too contagious and soon Joel was grinning, too. He covered the bottom part of his face with his hand, trying to regain his composure, and shook his head while muttering under his breath.

Then he felt your hands on both sides of his head again when you leaned forward and, still with that big, gorgeous smile of yours, started peppering his face in kisses. He tried to swat you away but it didn’t take long before he gave in to his fate.

After a couple of seconds of this sweet torture, you pulled back a little, leaving the tingly feeling of your lips all over his face.

“So, just to make sure. I can call you that?” you asked semi-shyly, though there was a mischievous glimmer in your eye, which made Joel smirk lopsidedly.

“Already told you, beautiful,” he murmured in a low voice, swiping his thumb across your cheekbone lovingly. “But nothin’ over-the-top, alright?”

“Alright,” you agreed, just as quietly, and then leaned in to kiss him lightly.

The suffocating coils of embarrassment in his stomach disappeared the moment you touched him. Joel decided that if suffering through those moments of vulnerability would end up with you in his arms and his lips on yours, he was able to survive them.

“Now come to bed, handsome,” you whispered against his mouth with a smile. Your voice had that downright sinful tone to it, which you knew was driving him insane. “I got cold waiting for you all alone.”

Little minx.

He gave you a smirk before crawling on top of you and scooping you in his arms. The sound of your laugh filled the room as he rolled both of you over, pulling you closer and onto his chest.

“Whatever you wish, sweetheart.”

[oh-obrien]

GRID ACE 0.4

Gamer Reader x Lestappen SMAU

AHHHH PART 0.4. Honestly this is helping me grow my creativity and learn to love a new fandom even more! Sorry for the brief disappearance, being an adult with a big girl job makes me cry sometimes hehe!!

As always all pictures are from Pinterest and reader has various face claims!

Please leave me requests.

I have a part five planned for this... one shot style

With that LET’S GO

Masterlsit / Previous Part / Next Part

F1forthegirls Fans seem to think the picture added to y/n’s story yesterday was considered a soft conformation of her involvement with both drivers and them arriving to the paddock together this morning is their first public outing

User1 The real question is did they all leave the same hotel together this morning?

-> F1forthegirls I hate to be that person but if they all arrived together this morning it can be assumed they left the hotel together.

-> User2 I’m staying in the same hotel as most of the crew and drivers and saw them leave together this morning! They got off the elevator together and Y/N was sandwiched between the two of them while they waited for their car.

-> User3 the plot is getting thickerrrrrrrr

User4 is anyone able to find details on if they all have their own rooms or not?

-> F1forthegirls we report on the information we are given, we will not invade the driver’s privacy to try and confirm an speculations.

-> User3 respectful queens

-> Xx.y/n.xX is it really respectful when every single move I make is currently being watched and talked about?

-> User4 OH MY GOD

-> Xx.y/n.xX I was actually being kind of serious but okay...

-> F1forthegirls If you'd like to reply to us directly feel free to DM us! We'd be happy to share your side also!

-> Xx.y/n.xX 🙄

User3 are we not going to talk about Y/N/ being annoyed in the replies??

-> User2 Like no girly you're the one who chose to step out into public with these men and post THAT on your Instagram story for the whole ass world to see

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

User5 WAIT this is INSANE, the FIA really said give the girlies what they want with COTA.

-> User6 NO because I NEED to know who's behind this tomfoolery. They really said HERE YOU GO when they gave us Lestappen pressers.

-> User7 Ferrari and RB are doing a fan event together later too.

-> User5 their media teams know what they're doing. You'd think they'd want to quash any rumors flying around. Two drivers in a relationship with the same girl???

-> User8 Not to be THAT person but they're potentially looking at pulling in a pretty new demographic to the sport and they'd be fans of arguably two of the most recognizable teams in the sport.

-> User9 No because that's smart... maybe this whole thing had been an RB pub stunt and Charles just got pulled in??? Lando too TBH.

-> User8 RIGHT??? Pulling in the gamer girlies with max and Y/N streaming together first and Charles and Lando just kind of got dragged into it.

-> User10 I feel like they were going for a love triangle and Max and Charles are just too nice for that and it turned into whatever this friendship is. Lando and Y/N just give sibling vibes, McLaren is bound to get some fans from that dynamic also.

F1forthegirls We would once again like to state that we personally will not speculate on the driver's personal relationships on this page, our twitter is purely for news. If you want a more in depth take on F1 news each week tune into our podcast that releases Monday at noon eastern time!

-> User11 we don't speculate on drivers relationships here but we will absolutely do it on our podcast. we love hypocritical queens. Please leave Max, Charles and Y/N alone.

-> User12 girl this is not a good look they're public figures

-> User11 Public figures who still deserve privacy

-> User13 I think they deserve privacy but if they are in a poly relationship I don't think y'all realize how good and bad this could be at the same time

-> User14 I don't think Red Bull and Ferrari of all teams would be overjoyed to see their two top drivers in a relationship with the same girl.

-> User13 But consider the fact that this would really be one of the first public poly couples of such a high status

-> User15 I work in marketing in motorsports and the teams would either dive head first with marketing or absolutely not allow it to be public.

->User14 From a contract standpoint they'd need to write in so many NDA's for Max and Charles so they can't share team information or anything.

-> User15 They probably already have those NDA's in place...

->Xx.y/n.xX do I get a say in this conversation or?????

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

Xx.y/n.xX just added to their story

REPLIES ARE DIABLED FOR THIS STORY

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Xx.y/n.xX just posted

Tagged @ Maxverstappen1 , @ Charles_leclerc

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Xx.y/n.xX Mama told me to only date winners, so I picked two. As Miley Cyrus once said "It's a party in the U.S.A."

-> Yourbestfriend HARD LAUNCH OF THE CENTURY

-> Xx.y/n.xX 😘

Maxverstappen1 ❤️

-> Charles_leclerc 💕💕

-> Xx.y/n.xX @ maxverstappen1 Char put two hearts I think he wins

-> Charles_leclerc I also got first place in the actual race Max only got first in the sprint 🙄

-> Xx.y/n.xX @ maxverstappen1 he has a point Maxie

-> Landonorris ew save the nicknames please

-> Xx.y/n.xX I'm sorry mister 5 second penalty I didn't say you could speak.

Liked by @ maxverstappen1

-> Danielricciardo C O L D

-> Xx.y/n.xX please Danny, it was a burn. I lit your ass on fire with that one @ Landonorris

User16 IM SORRY WHAT IS THIS HARD LAUNCH

-> Redbullracing an admin approved one 👍

-> Scuderiaferrari 🤭

-> User17 NOT THE ADMINS GIGGLING OVER THIS

-> User18 Admins commenting makes me think they aren't joking with this one

-> User16 No like the admins are literally insane for this.

User19 this is going to make or break the F1 community

-> User20 I just want to know the dynamic

-> User21 Lestappen girlies are QUAKING in the wake of this one

Danielricciardo SO I PUT MY HANDS UP THEY'RE PLAYING MY SONG

-> Xx.y/n.xX THE BUTTERFLIES FLY AWAY I'M NODDING MY HEAD LIKE YEAH

-> Danielricciardo I will make sure they play this BANGER at the afterparty

-> Xx.y/n.xX Like it isn't first on my list Mr. Ricciardo

-> Danielricciardo @ georgerussell63 @ alex_albon @ landonorris you British boys will be shaking in your boots hearing this one at the club

-> Georgerussell63 Yee Haw 🤠

-> Alex_albon please I'm a seasoned pro with this one

-> Landonorris you doubt my abilities when drinks, me and y/n are mixed together

-> Xx.y/n.xX 🫡

Oscarpiastri MOM, DAD... and dad??? YEAH.

-> Xx.y/n.xX SON

-> Xx.y/n.xX @ mclaren I like this one more tell Lando to go off track more often

-> Landonorris I'm not buying a round tonight now

-> Xx.y/n.xX please, as soon as T-Swift comes on you're a GONNER

User22 BUT WHY IS Y/N EXPOSING ALL OF THEM KIND OF HYSTERICAL.

-> User23 the girly we needed and never knew it

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Maxverstappen1 just posted

Tagged @ Xx.y/n.xX , @ charles_leclerc

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Maxverstappen1 that you COTA!

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Charles_leclerc just posted

Tagged @ Xx.y/n.xX , @ Maxverstappen1

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Charles_leclerc BEST. RACE. EVER.

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Tag list : @that-one-little-soybean @menagerofmischief @delululeclerc @evermoreandroyalblue

[mooooonnnzz]

Hi I just wanna say I read the Dad! Stanley hcs you did and it was sooo goood I loved every bit of it.

I was wondering if you could do a bit of an angsty request where Stanley's child is in there late teens an gets possesed by Bill, like what do you think his reaction would be, since when dipper got possesed by bill, bill physicaly injured dippers body a lot and was just genuinely careless with his body. Also I have no idea when the reader would be possesed by bill mabey after Ford is back to make things extra angsty since ford knows of bill, idk do whatever you like with this request I just like angst with for no reason whatsoever.

Also I did try to find if you had any request rules but I couldn't find any so if you do have rules and this request is something you don't feel comfortable writing then please just ignore this request, I hope you have a brilliant day or night :D.

Another thing I just wanted to mention is I'm sorry for how long this request is.

Far From The Weight of The World

Dad!Stanley Pines x Teen!Reader

❀ 9,1k words its a loottt so if ur ready to hunker down and read a whole bunch this is for u!!

❀ guess who finished far from the weight of the world THIS GUYYY

❀ it wouldn't have ever seen the light of day if it wasn't for @raventeen they helped me sm!! like they helped every single step of the way and chose the direction of where this should go so big thanks to them <3

❀ i hope you all enjoy this! :3

❀ possible tw: description of skin melting off, throwing up blood, self inflicted harm, more blood, uhh broken bones? even more blood

❀ gn!reader

❀ i love dad stan pines smmm

❀ requests r still open hehe

“Sweetheart!” Stan’s footsteps could be heard thumping on the ground towards you. You marched forwards, your throat painfully knotted in a ball, suppressing your sobs and swallowing your words. Your head swirled with the word liar, spinning around hastily. Whispers of Mable and Dipper could be heard distantly behind you, their concerned eyes digging holes right through you. Too swept up by your wind of emotions you ignored their worried looks. 

“We can talk about this, kiddo. Just give me a second.” His fingers curl against your arm but you yank it away before he’s able to wrap them around you. “What do you want, Dad?” You promptly turned around, glassy eyes somberly staring into his wide ones. “Can you please give me a chance. Hear me out,” his voice cracked at the end, his hands twitching to desperately reach out to you and prevent you from taking another step further away from him. “I don’t know If I can trust you, Dad.” Uttering that sentence shattered something within you. Not once have you thought of yourself ever telling your very own dad that you don’t trust him. He had never given you a reason to distrust him. To you, all his past lies were seen as truth to you, undeniable facts that couldn’t be broken apart because his word carried high validity, to you at least. But now, you’re not even sure that he’s telling you the truth right now.

Ford’s heavy shoes sounded on the creaky wooden floors, announcing his presence wordlessly. “[Name], dear. Listen to your father.” He adds. He looked at you with an analytical stare, twisting your stomach inside out. You didn’t like how he looked at you like you were one of his captured anomalies, inspecting you and reading your tense body language, anticipating for the second where you’d act out of pure emotion so he’d supply you with meaningless words that held nothing but empty hope to burn out the flurry of emotions that ran rampant inside you.

“I don’t want to hear anything from you, Uncle Ford.” You spat out. He was the last person you wanted to hear anything from. From time to time, you’ve begged him to tell you what exactly is going around here yet he’d always brush you aside, dismissing whatever you’d ask and move on with the next thing that gripped his attention. “You never wanted to say anything to me until now.” 

Ford, not expecting your answer, stumbled with his words. He shakes his head, almost as if he’s expelling his shock with the shakes and regains his composure. “[Name],” he starts off with a stern tone. “You are acting purely on your emotions. I need you to compose yourself and talk to us when you’re relaxed enough to form a proper sentence that doesn’t have you snapping at us.” 

Your jaw gawks open. “So you’re telling me that I shouldn’t be feeling upset over this? 

Ford clicked his tongue, a twinge of frustration oozing out of him. Everything you’re saying is going off the script Ford had curated in his head. He’s rendered useless as he scrambles for words he can put together in a sentence that’ll feasibly flip your train of thought around and convince you that the way you’re acting is irrational. 

Ford waved his head side to side, unsure with his answer. Stan noticed the apprehension shrouded on Ford’s face and he silently signaled to him to not say what he’s about to say, already knowing that his poor choice of words was going to send this whole situation right on its back. Too stubborn for his own good, Ford stood his ground and opened his mouth much to Stan’s clear distaste of him speaking his mind. 

“Yes but no.” You grit your teeth together, eyes narrowly staring daggers at Ford who looked seemingly pleased with his response.

Stan gulps nervously, taking a cautious step forward. “Sweetie, don’t listen to him. He’s an idiot. He doesn’t know what–” 

“--You’re telling me that I’m overreacting? I have just found out that my dad has been lying to me since the moment I was born! And to make matters worse, you all are hiding things from me. None of you are bothering to tell me what the hell is going on here. Why are we all so secretive? We all promise to tell each other everything, no more secrets, no more lies! What happened to that? You all know something and I have a right to know as well!”

You heaved out a ragged breath, words spilling out of you in a madden rush. You held down your tongue for too long. Long nights of sneaky meandering had left you scrambling all the pieces they had discarded on secrets of Gravity Falls together, solving and answering all the questions you laid out for them but chose to ignore. All the lies Stan had fed you over the years concerning this supposed lazy town was unraveling right in front of you. What else had he been hiding from you? What other filthy lies had he pushed on you that you so mindlessly believed? 

Stan’s mouth flounders, stammers of jumbled sounds spilled out. His arms are rendered at his side, stunned with your outburst. “I thought I was protecting you.” He whispers, his fingers flexing anxiously. “Dad! This whole summer has been nothing but crazy. I didn’t know that we had half of those monsters in our woods because you lied to me and told me that it’s been my imagination. What if I had gotten close to one thinking that it was all in my head, and the beast mauls my head off. What then, Dad?” 

Stan deflates. Lost for words, he runs a hand down his gray hair. Thinking about finding your bloodied body sent full body chills down his spine and his stomach lurching. He never sat down and thought of the consequences of what he told you. As long as he said that it was all in your head, he thought you would’ve strayed away from them. 

“I’m going outside. Maybe some stupid gnome would actually tell me what’s going on here because nobody here wants to even tell me anything.” The door slammed shut, causing everything on the wall to rattle and almost tip over. “Oh,” Stan drooped his head onto his palms, tears swelling in his eyes. “I really screwed up here.” He whispered to himself, his voice crackly and small. 

Ford patted his back and Stan believed for a quick moment that Ford was going to say something so beautifully uplifting that he’d see the brighter sides of things, but he tells him, “When are you not?” and continues to pat his back.

Stan violently shrugged Ford’s hand off, his hand pushing Ford away from him. “Really, poindexter?” He scoffs, walking off into the living room where Mable and Dipper watched the whole scene unfold. “I thought it would offer some comfort!” He defeatedly argues back, a dejected sigh escaping him when his eyes meet Mable’s watery ones and Dipper’s disappointed glare. “Kids, I—“ Mable swiftly turns her head to the side, mumbling something under her breath as she ambles up to her room. 

“I’m going to find them.” Stan walks in, slipping on a jacket to shield him from the cold. “I’m coming too.” Ford reaches out to grab the doorknob when Stan’s hand stops him from doing so. “I don’t think they want to see you right now.” Stan gingerly shoved Ford out of the way, leaving him to his thoughts as he shut the door behind him. Cursing to himself, Ford rams his foot on the door angrily. 

Venturing far into the lush woods, you grumbled bitterly to yourself. You couldn’t even trust your own family to tell you something so simple. How utterly pathetic is that? 

You fought the urge to punch a nearby tree and continued on, getting yourself lost in the natural maze of the forest. You wanted to get as far away as possible just so you can find time for yourself to cool down. After a while, the cold air started to nip at your exposed arms. The hairs on your body stood up as a cold shiver rippled through you. Hugging yourself to provide some warmth you found yourself sitting on the grassy floor, back leaning against the bark of the tree. 

The soft chirps and squeaks of the animals brought a sense of calmness over you. These woods have been declared dangerous by Stan and for the longest time you never went out here without Stan hovering behind you or Soos mindlessly meandering through the woods with you. Your hands swayed across the green blades of grass, focusing on the itchy feeling that ran through your palms rather than the bitter cold. The faint whistles of the wind swirled around your ears and out around you. Has this forest always been so peaceful? Leaning your head against the trunk of the tree, you closed your eyes shut. Relishing in the comforting nature the woods provided you. 

“Sweetheart?” Your eyes shoot open. “Dad?” Your heart quickens, your head whipping around rapidly. “Sweetie?” Stan’s voice grew closer and closer. The sound of the grass crunching and bending under his steps resounded throughout the quiet woods, his calls becoming more frequent and louder. How did he find you so quickly? 

A shadowy figure, one you’ve grown to recognize, stepped out from the shade and presented himself. “[Name].” Stan sweetly calls out, kneeling down beside you. “Dad? What are you doing here?” 

Stan smiled, opening his mouth but all that came out was a raspy breath. “Wha–” Your voice hitches in your throat. 

Stan’s skin started melting off in a disgusting mess of bubbling flesh. The side of his face became a drooping mess and a crazed cackle left his lips. “You should’ve seen the look on your face, kid!” He points a boney finger at you, melted flesh sludge dripping from the bone. You scramble back, terrified screams ripping out of you. 

“W-What is going on?” You push yourself up from the floor with your hand, bile coating the back of your throat at the horrid sight of Stan’s bloodied flesh sploshing to the floor. “I’m just playing tricks on you!” With a snap of his finger, Stan poofed away in thin air. What took his spot was an ominous floating triangle with a top hat. “Well, well, well, look who it is, [Name]! I knew we'd cross paths sooner or later. I gotta admit, I'm thrilled!” His eye crinkled in a joyous smile. 

“How…” You blinked dumbly at the floating triangle. “I’m dreaming, right?”

“You sure are, kid!” 

A wave of recognition passes through you. This was the god Ford was talking about in one of his journals. Your knowledge of him was not much, but from the tidbits you have read, Ford had admired this god. He went as far as to calling the triangle his muse. What was his name? Wasn’t it– “Bill?” His name spills out of your mouth. “Ah! So you do know about me?” He tilts a little in your direction, his hands clasped together. “Hear anything good?” A glimmer of forlorn hope shimmers in his eye before it’s washed away with an inquisitive look. “I-I think so? My Uncle really liked you from what I had read in his journals.” You squint your eyes in thought.

“Oh, he really liked me.” Bill’s charmed voice had entailed that there was more to the story than what was told but he didn’t give you time to mull over that thought before jumping into the flow of another topic. “But that’s all in the past now, right?” He snaps his fingers, a comfortable looking chair appearing before your eyes. He floated down on the chair, kicking his legs up and crossing them. 

“I heard that a little someone has been lied to, isn’t that unfortunate?” The corner of his eye pulled to the side, almost as if it was a sadden frown. “How did you know?” The chair poofs away.  “I see everything, kid!” His hands fall to his sides and he slowly leans towards you, his eye pulled wide open. Flashes of images you couldn’t quite comprehend flickered by in a brisk montage. “Everything.” He draws out. “Anyways, I've got a deal for you. You give me, I give you. Sounds fair, doesn't it?” 

You raise a brow. “How can I trust you?” You rolled your fingers around the grass, delicately pulling on them. 

“Your dear Uncle Ford trusted me!” He shakes his hands enthusiastically. 

You pressed your lips into a thin line, still not convinced. “You literally pretended to be my dad and melted him right in front of me.” Bill put his fists to his sides, huffing out like a little child. “Can’t a triangle have a little fun here?” He rolled his eye dramatically. You eyed him, skepticism evident on your face. “I don’t know…” You plucked out a few blades of grass from the dirt. “I feel like if you wanted to gain my trust then you shouldn’t have done that.” You crumpled up the grass into a little green ball and tossed it at Bill. The ball passes through his body. 

“Maybe you’ll change your mind once I propose the deal..?” Bill’s eye stretched out and morphed into a mouth with his lips puckered. He whistles out a tune you can’t recognize and innocently kicks the air. “Go on,” You wave your hand out to him. “If you make a deal with me, everything that you’ve been wanting to know will be revealed to you. All you have to do is shake my hand.” He extended out his hand, blue flame engulfing it whole. You blink your eyes in surprise. Was it really that easy? “There’s no catch?” 

Bill’s fingers trembled in anticipation. “None whatsoever!” 

You could trust him, right? Ford had trusted him! Bill even confirmed it himself. And with what you read, Bill had been giving him infinite knowledge. Feeding him thoughts that no one else had thought of before. He did manage to build that portal and come to think of it, wasn’t it triangular shaped? Was that Bill shaped or were you reaching? You think for a minute more, weighing the pros and the cons. Biting your tongue, you looked at Bill. Bill made a deal with Ford and he’s still alive and well, so how bad could it really be?

You bite the bullet and grasp onto his hand, the flame trailing towards you and consuming your hand whole. A maniacal laugh rips through the air and the world stills. The color drains around you, unpleasantly welcoming you to a monochrome world. “That was just too easy!” Bill wipes a tear from his eye, his firm grip on your hand never wavering. “W-What do you mean?” You tried forcefully pulling your hand away from Bill’s iron grip but it felt like your whole hand was encased in stone. No matter how hard you tried prying yourself away from his hold, his hand still didn’t budge. His eye twists into a pleased smile, his fingers thumping against the edge of your palm gleefully. 

“Was I an idiot for trusting you?” Your words came out in a quiet whisper. You can feel the life being sucked out of you as Bill drew his hand back. “Yes! Absolutely!” He said with a cheer, yanking his hand back suddenly, pulling you out of your physical form. Bill wasted no time taking over your body. He rose up with a delighted laugh, his hands running down your body, taking in the new but familiar feeling. “Wow!” He pressed your palms on your lower back, stretching out your back with a few gratifying pops. “It has been so long since I’ve possessed someone!” Cracking your fingers, he turned over to your floating form with an eerie smile. The world bleeds back into its colors and the soft tranquil sounds of the forest flooded your ears. “Funny how we switched places, huh?” 

You let out a shaky breath, your mind relentlessly battering you with words. How was this even possible? How could you be so foolish? You couldn’t even comprehend any of this. Bill moving around and using your body was terrifying. That was physically you and right now, he was joyously ramming your fist into the tree. You can see the skin on your knuckles rip and tear, blotchy patches of blood tainting the light bark. A light tingle of pain buzzed on your knuckles but it went away as quickly as it came.

“You’re so easy to injure! How weak are you?” He observes the damage eagerly, making your finger pinch on a frayed piece of skin. He twisted it and pulled it back, lightly chuckling to himself as he watched pearls of blood bead up from the now exposed skin. “Bill, stop!” Out of instinct, your hand went over to swat his arm away. A cold gust of wind flows through you as your hand phases right through yo–Bill. He stopped, plucking off the skin and flicking it aside.  “If you keep hurting yours–, I mean, me! They’re going to wonder what happened.”

“Not if I tell them that you got attacked!” He said in a sing-song voice, his eyes keenly looking around for anything else that’ll harm your body. “[Name]!” Stan’s voice rung in the air, pulling you and Bill from your thoughts. A sinister smile tug at Bill’s lips as an idea fills his head. Your stomach flips inside out. Discreet grunts and groans seized your attention and you whipped your head over to Bill climbing up a tree. “What are you doing!” Your hands fly to your hair, gripping it tightly. 

“Breaking the bones inside this meaty vessel, duh.” He hoists himself up on a thick branch. “Would a fall from this height kill you?” Bill ponders out loud, shakily standing up. “Are you seriously going to do this!” Your eyes darted from Bill sticking out your foot from under you to the direction where Stan’s voice could be heard. Bill lets your question float up in the air and with a child-like shout, he jumps off the branch, keeping your legs straight. You look away, unable to witness Bill carelessly treat your body like a toy. 

A stomach turning snap sounded in the air. “[Name]!” Stan’s distressed voice alerted you.

You whip your head around to see Stan cradling your body. Bile crawls up your throat upon seeing your twisted leg limply hang on the other side. “Sweetheart? What happened?” Stan’s words rushed out in a flurried frenzy. You slapped a palm to your mouth, anxiously awaiting for Bill to slip up and sell out his identity to Stan. “I don’t know…” You hear your very own voice leave your mouth. Bill’s agitating voice was nowhere to be heard. Vomit fills your mouth and you fight every muscle in your body to not spew it out. “I was just laying on the tree, not doing anything when something attacked me. I…” Bill allows a few tears to cascade down your face before continuing. “I thought I was going to die, Dad. I was so scared!” He dramatically sobs onto Stan’s sweater, purposefully grazing your shredded bleeding knuckle on his jacket. 

A gasp swelled in Stan’s chest. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I-I…” He harshly shuts his mouth closed, his pupils shrinking upon seeing your bloody knuckle. He was at fault for this, if he had never lied to you, if he would have just told you the truth from the start, you wouldn’t be so injured. Silently he carefully picked you up from the floor. To sprinkle a little more dramatics on the show Bill had out for you, he hissed out in faux pain, shooting your hand to your bent leg. Stan cringed, his eyes avoiding the general direction of your broken leg. “I’m sorry, baby.” He weakly muttered, his eyebrows pinched firmly in worry. 

Stan trekked through the thick foliage with your body curled in his arms. He dodged under branches that stuck out and sidestepped the stones that protruded from the ground. The entire walk was in silence, aside from the periodic sniffles coming from Stan and quiet hiccups. All you wanted to do at that moment was wrap him in a hug and tell him everything was going to be okay, but you weren’t even so sure of that yourself.

When Stan approaches the front door of the shack, a wave of conflicted emotion flickers through Bill’s eyes before he closes his eyes abruptly and goes slack in Stan’s arms. 

Stan chokes out a garbled yell for Ford. He heaves your body over his shoulder, twisting open the door with a slam and barging into the shack. “Stanley?!” Ford frantically ran over to Stan, his hands gesturing wildly at the sight before his eyes. “Th-They passed out in my arms! I don’t know what to do, Stanford!” 

You grapple at your face, desperate to make sense of what’s happening. You watch with a heavy heart when Mable and Dipper scramble to Stan’s side, troubled voices speaking over one another trying to understand what happened to you and to ask if you were dead. Their frantic cries and yells chaotically fill the silence in the shack. Ford yelled over their voices, instructing Stan to quickly settle you down on the couch so he could conduct a proper examination on your wounded body. All Stan could do is go along with his commands, mind hazy with borderline delirium as he stumbles towards the living room. 

“Dad,” you whisper, your fingertips grazing through him. You hold back the sob that scratched at your throat. This can’t be happening right now. 

Cracking an eye open to your direction, you can feel Bill’s sleazy smile draw on your face. Your stomach shrivels up in disgust at the sight. His yellow eyes gleamed under the dimly lit shack as he stared at you. Mable’s rushed steps drew Bill to close your eyes. “Grunkle Stan! Please tell me they’re okay!” Mable has the collar of her sweater pulled up to her mouth, her never ending stream of tears staining the sweater. “Mable. Give him some space.” Dipper murmured, holding Mable back as he tensely watched Stan lay you down. 

Ford eventually came in with a first aid kit. His appearance looked a little more disheveled than before. His hair was strewn about and ruffled, glasses crookedly sat atop of his nose and one of his sleeves was rolled up and cuffed while the other one was untouched. He sucked in a harsh breath upon seeing your split knuckles, dried blood crusted around the wounds and raw skin. The gashes reminded him of his own busted up knuckles when he was possessed by Bill. Alarm signs flared in his face but he batted them away, chalking it up to your injuries being caused by whatever animal had attacked you in the woods when you were alone. He treated the lacerations with antibodies and meticulously wrapped your hand in medical gauze. Gently placing your hand beside you, he looked over to your broken leg, holding a bated breath. Broken bones weren’t his favorite injury to heal since it takes extensive time off from anything physical and you having a broken leg at a time like this wasn’t ideal. He just needed to find ways to heal your leg quickly. 

“I need you all to leave the living room.” Ford clapped his hands together, dragging a hand down his fingers. “W-What, why?!” This was the first time Stan spoke in a while and it surprised Ford. Clearing his throat, he answered: “Because I can’t focus with your eyes hovering all over me. I-I need to think and if I’m going to treat their leg, I need you all to leave.” Against everyone’s wishes, Ford ushered them out,  leaving him alone to fully think about possible treatments he could have you undergo to heal your leg. 

You didn’t have a good feeling about leaving Bill alone with Ford. They had history with each other and having a past with someone like Bill doesn’t seem like a good thing. 

“Fordsy…” 

Ford’s body physically recoiled inwards at the familiar nickname. His head darted around the room, helplessly searching for the owner of the voice. He can’t be here can he? That voice just sounded so eerily similar to yours, but why would you call him Fordsy? Blood pumps in his ear drums, obstructing his hearing. 

“Sixeerrr.” His fingers curl around his arms. The light glow of horrifying unforgettable eyes glimmer in the corner of his eyes. He turns over to see you sat up on the couch, a smile stretched from ear to ear as Bill’s eyes shone into his. Ford’s blood ran cold, his mind swirling like a whirlwind. “Bill?” His heart pounds behind his rib cage. 

“The one and only, Sixer.” Hearing Bill’s voice crackle through your own instilled despair all over Ford’s body. Taking a wary step back, his shaky eyes watched as Bill threw your legs down the couch, your left eye flinching closed as pain shivered through Bill. He severely underestimated how much pain your leg would cause him. To fight against it, he slammed your leg on the floor. Pain jostled through him, a shuddering sigh blowing past your lips. The aching pain overtook your leg for a moment before it relented into a numbing buzzing feeling. “Much better!” He stands up, smiling broadly. 

Ford sucked in a stuttering breath, his eyes fleeting over to the hallway. “What do you want, Bill?” 

“I don’t know…” He rolled your head in thought. “Maybe the rift to the portal? It’s a crazy thing to ask, I know!” He laughs to himself. 

You wanted to bash your head on the wall. This was the reason why he made a deal with you. It was because of a stupid rift. You’ve only heard bits and pieces of the importance of the rift, but you knew it was serious business with how you heard Ford talk about it in passing. You need to find a way to stop Bill. 

Ford sneered. “Try all you want, Bill. But you’re not getting the portal.” Bill rolled your shoulders, earning a few noisy crackles of your bones. Ford tenses up, readying himself for the fight that’s about to pursue when Bill charges towards him, side stepping him at the last second and darting out of the living room. “Haha! I got you!” He teases, hissing out in pain when he applied too much pressure on your busted leg. “Stanley!” Ford yelled out, stumbling over his own feet as he ran after Bill. Hurried footsteps stomp down on the stairs, panicked talking and breaths littered the air. “[Name] is possessed by Bill!” A chorus of “WHAT?” echoes in the house. 

He skids to a stop in front of the open vending machine. Ford tugged on his hair, mumbling to himself in shock. How does he know the password? Wasting no time to dwell on that, he pads down the stairs. His stomach lurches forward when he notices Bill step inside the elevator, a snarky smile on your face as he turns around and waves at Ford. “Bill!” He launches himself forward, missing a few steps of the stairs and landing on the ground near the elevator. He trips over to the closing elevator, his fist slamming on the door as it shuts. 

“Ford, what is going on?” Stan pants out. Ford rapidly presses the elevator button, anxiously watching as the elevator dinged on down to the bottom. An idea passes through your head. Mumbling a self-motivating sentence Mable had showed you, you dived straight through the floor, phasing through the other two rooms and landing in the lab room. As stupid as it sounds, you’re going to repossess your body back.  

“Bill, he–he has [Name]!” Ford delivers a punch to the buttons, knocking the plate off its screws. Stan’s face contorts into a mixture of anger and concern. “He has what!? How the fuck does Bill have [Name], Ford!” Ford rested his forehead on the wall. “Now’s not the time to freak out, Stanley!”

Stan clenched his fists, grinding his teeth together. “It’s the perfect time to freak out, Stanford! Bill has my kid!” 

“Bill has [Name]?” Mable’s shrill reverberated through the empty staircase. “Kids, you can’t be here!” Ford warns, shooting out his hand to stop Mable and Dipper from getting any closer. “We want to help, Grunkle Ford.” Dipper sternly said. “That’s a funny joke, kid.” Stan chuffs out dryly, his attention snapping towards the elevator that was now rising up the shaft, dinging with each stop. “It’s not a joke!” Dipper dipped under Ford’s arm and stood in front of the elevator, Mable following in suit. “Stanley, do something!” Ford gestures to Mable and Dipper who are unmoving from their spot. Stan scoffs, dismissing him with a flick of his wrist. “They’re already here, Stanford. There’s no point in stoppin’ them now.” 

With a loud chime, the elevator pulls back its doors. The twins were the first to step inside, whispering to themselves as Ford and Stan walked in. Mable rushes over to the panel containing three buttons and using her tippy toes, she slams the last button with the palm of her hand. The elevator registers the destination with a slight rumble and shuts the door closed, leading them down to Ford’s lab. 

Ford could see Stan’s harsh breathing and clenched fists out the corner of his eye. Placing a comforting hand on his shoulder, he steels both him and Ford with: “We’re going to save them, Stanley.” Stan breathes out, teetering his head back with his eyes shut. “I hope you’re right about that.” 

The elevator quivers to a stop, the doors creakily pulling open. The four of them step out of the elevator and into the lab. “I was expecting it to be destroyed down here.” Dipper comments. 

Through the protective window, Ford could see Bill fighting with himself, your body laying limp for a few seconds before revving back up to life. He watches the cycle repeat for a few more times before shaking his head. “He’s outside.” He advises everyone. 

In a blink of an eye, Stan was already out into where Bill was, blowing countless angry questions at his face, his eyes shifting everywhere but at you. “Woah, woah, woah!” Bill took a cautious step back as he watched everyone circle around him, caught off guard with the sudden intrusion. “Don’t get your underwear in a twist, haha, am I right?” 

Pure and utter silence. 

Bill’s smile falters. “Okay, touch crowd!” 

“Cut the crap, Bill. Give me back my kid!” Stan grunts out. “I can let them talk to you! After all, they’re up here.” He taps the side of your head. “Stop messing around!” Ford takes a step toward Bill. “Don’t come any closer!” Your own voice filters through Bill’s interdimensional voice. Ford hesitates in his steps, sharing a cautionary glance with Stan. Shuffling your hand behind you, he pulls out the shimmering rift. “I will break this!” He threatens, flipping it upside down. 

Ford narrows his eyes at Bill. “You would’ve done so by now. What’s stopping you?” He motions Dipper and Mable to sneak past Bill and hide behind him, just in case he decides to do anything that’ll compromise the rift and you. “Nothing!” Bill strains out, trying to wiggle the rift out of your grasp. Ford takes notice of your white knuckles and connects two and two together. You’re somehow fighting against Bill for your body. “Fascinating…” 

“Aghh! Why can’t this stupid kid let go!” Bill grumbles, using your other hand to scrape at your clenched hand. He scratched and clawed until the skin on your hand was red and raw. “Is [Name] currently fighting against you?” Ford inquires, a delighted smile on his face. “W-What? No!” Bill plucks your pinky finger off the rift. “See! I’m in total–” Your body jerks forward, and for a slight second, your eyes glinted back, only for you to be propelled backwards. With a shake of your head, your eyes blink and Bill’s eyes are back on you. “[Name] is a fighter, that’s for sure!” He awkwardly laughs out, still regaining control over your body with how he waverly stumbled side to side. 

Taking advantage of his vulnerability, Ford sent a quiet signal to Mable and Dipper. The twins tackle Bill from behind. A startle yelp leaves his mouth as he falls forward. “Stanley the–” Stan was already swooping in and snatching the rift out of your hands in one swift motion. Bill's face planted on the floor. “This stupid weak body!” Bill whines out, having your hands buckled tightly to your back by Dipper and Mabel. “Get something to tie their arms together with!” Stan said, jogging back into the lab, discreetly hiding the rift away from Bil’’s prodding eyes.

“I was so close!” Bill pressed your face into the dirt. The sharp tiny stones cut into your cheek and all Bill could do is focus on the itching pain rather than the humiliating feeling of being pinned down by two twelve year olds. Ford grabs the rope and securely binds your wrists together. The twins finally shuffle away from your body, watching Bill struggle under the restraints. “I’m going to be traumatized by the end of this.” She lets out a dejected sigh. “I feel like nothing can phase me after this.” Dipper adds. 

“How are we going to get them back into their body?” Stan questioned Ford who was double checking the bindings on your wrist, making sure they weren’t too tight to burn your skin off but tight enough to keep Bill detained “I think I have an idea on how…” He breathes out, looking over to Stan, face full of unease. “But it might not work if everyone isn’t present.” 

Stan found himself staring dumbly at the diagram that Ford had etched into the dirt with a stick. “What is this?” Ford finished the final symbol within the diagram, discarding the stick behind him. “A zodiac diagram.” He says, dusting off his hands. “And what does this have to do with saving [Name]?” 

Ford spares a quick glance over to you. Mable and Dipper sat on each of your sides, keeping a careful eye on you as you alternated with yourself and Bill. Dipper’s face contorted into a painful expression whenever you’d jerk your head upwards, a random assortment of words spilling out of you before your head flies back down. That agonizing process continues for what feels like an eternity and he could clearly see the toll it’s taken on your body. Stan couldn't make himself  watch you suffer, biting his lip so hard blood builds up on his lip.

“Yes.” Ford curtly nods his head. “I had always hypothesized what this would be used for but It never occurred to me until now that it could be used like this.” 

Stan doesn’t like the slight sound of uncertainty in Ford’s tone. How could Ford be so sure that it works? “So, you’re telling me that you have never done this before?” 

“Pretty much, yeah.” He shrugs, pushing up his glasses that were sliding down his nose. “Don’t worry about whether it works or not. We don’t have time to think about what if’s.” Curiously eyeing the symbols on the floor, he pondered in his head. Who could possibly stand on what zodiac?

Mable had walked right next to Stan, she looked like she had something to say when her eyes fell on the diagram, her eyes shining. “That one reminds me of Wendy.” She points at the zodiac that was an ice bag. An idea dawned upon Ford. “Does it now?” He kneels down to Mable’s height. “Mable, dear. Can you look at these zodiac signs and tell me who they remind you of?” 

Mable was quick to point out and tell Ford each symbol that reminded her of a person. Jotting down all the names in his head, he began calling each and every one of them, stringing Mable along to help him convince them to come over to the Mystery Shack. One by one, they all started pooling in. Questions sprouted from one mouth to another and every single time, their questions received answers when their eyes landed on your struggling form.

“Okay, everyone stand in your respective spots and hold hands!” Ford’s voice was quiet in the distance. Stan had found himself kneeling in front of you, his expression unreadable but his eyes carried a deep sorrowful guilt to them. “Feeling guilty, Stanley?” Bill drawled out, pulling your heavy head up, only for it to be knocked down to the side. Your body was growing weak and Bill was tirelessly fighting against it. Unbeknownst to Stan, you were right next to him. Your unrelenting attempts to gain your body back had caused an aggressive strain on your body. You couldn’t stay in it without feeling utterly exhausted, allowing Bill to abuse your weak spot and take over your body. But that weak spot had also applied to him as well. You were trying to regain your breath before you’d try again. 

“Can it, Bill.” He scoops you up from the floor, walking towards the diagram. 

“You don’t have to do this!” Bill aggressively barked out, throwing himself around in Stan’s hold. “I do have to do this. You’re in my kid's body.” He grunted, throwing your body over his shoulder. “They made a deal with me! I won this body fair and square.” Bill argued, hammering your head down on Stan’s back. “Look, I just found out about you not too long ago. But for someone who was supposedly this all powerful demon, you pathetically really weak.” 

He approaches the diagram, setting your body down in the middle. “That’s because I haven’t revealed my true potential yet!” He struck the back of your head hard on the floor, causing your vision to go bleak for a moment. “Do you really need to do all of that?” You grumble, rubbing the back of your tender head. “I do what I please.” He mumbles to himself, rolling over on your stomach. 

Standing in his spot, Stan locked hands with Ford and Soos. “It’s most likely going to feel weird! Stick it through and don’t, I repeat, don’t let go!” A blinding blue light shoots up from the middle and travels through the lines of the diagram, illuminating the place in a bright blue light. 

“No!’ Bill writhed around. He could feel himself slipping away. Your forehead makes direct contact with a rock. He smiles at it, knocking your head against it again. “Oh, Billy! You are just full of ideas today.” He whispered, shuffling over to the stone to the point where he was hovering over it. He laid your head down, feeling the cold stone press against the middle of your forehead. Breathing in through clenched teeth, he raised your head up high. He nailed your head down on the rock, splitting through skin. You could feel the ghost touch of blood trickle down your forehead. 

He laughed crazily as he continued to bash your head onto the rock. With each blow, the rock was painted with more and more blood. He was going to kill you at this rate. Bill lowered his head back down on the rock and you shut your eyes closed. You weren’t going to see Bill crack your head open. But the blistering pain never registered, peeking your eyes open you saw Stan had caught your head in his hand. 

Ford yelled out Stan’s name but Stan ignored it. His chest rapidly heaved in and out as he fell to his knees, resting your dazed head on his lap. You had noticed that Bill was slipping out of your physical form. Darting over to him, you grabbed his hand and ripped him out. Before you could hear Bill’s flurry of cries, you dove right in, repossessing your body once again and hopefully for the last time. 

Grumbled groans escaped you as you regained all your senses. You jolted up in striking pain. Everything hurt, even more than the last you took over. Your stomach rumbled, a flood of whatever liquid shot up into your mouth. You leaned to the side, expelling the fluid. Peeling open your weary eyes, you felt yourself grow nauseous at the pool of blood in front of you. “[Name]!” Stan grabbed your face, directing it toward him. He looked at your eyes and a look of relief settled on his face. “Dad?” You groggily said, your whole world spinning. “Are you okay? Is that demon gone? Where is he?” The massive load of questions made you want to vomit all over again. 

I’m still here! Bill’s grating voice grinding against your brain. You crumble under Stan’s hold, your head thumping in pain “No. He’s still in my head.” You felt another rush of blood clamor up into your mouth. You meekly shove Stan’s hands away from your face, hurling another dump of blood. Cautious voices sounded all around you, your vision distorting in a blurry mess. “Dad?” You forcefully focused your eyes on Stan’s face. “I think there’s something wrong with me.” Talking was enough to strip you away from all the energy you had left and you weren’t sure you had enough time to say anything else before Bill took over again. 

“I know, baby. I know. We’re goin’ to get help, stay with me. Please.” Stan said something to Ford you couldn’t quite catch.

You felt his arms wrap around you and lay you down back on his lap. I’m going to kill you. You scratched at your aching head. “His voice hurts. Hearing it hurts so much.” You murmured, feeling a hand run down your arm up and down soothingly. “Stay strong for me, sweetheart.” A light kiss was pressed on your forehead. 

You cried out, feeling yourself being pulled away. 

“Stanley! Come back now!” You could make out Ford’s scream at Stan. The world was fading before you and you couldn’t help but break down as you heard Bill cackle in your head. Stan saw your eyes flicker to yellow and he delicately placed you down on the floor, running back to his spot. Bill seamlessly takes over, blinking himself awake as he’s shuffling your body up to your knees.

“This is all your fault, Stanley Pines. [Name]’s death will be on your hands!” He bellows, purposely allowing your voice to break through. The strenuous action causes him to tremble forward, blood splattering on the grass. Bill started yelling nonsensical blabbers, anything that would make Stan budge from his spot, to stop the whole process but he stayed put, directly staring Bill down. Bill fell to the side, coughing up bile and a random assortment of fluids. 

In a flash of blue, you feel yourself fully grounded back into your body. A feeling you feel like you haven’t felt in forever. 

A grinding yell echoed in your head. You are so disgustingly weak! Bill screamed in your head. Another splitting headache bore into your head but all you could do is lay there and take it in, feeling so worn-out and droopy that you weren’t able to physically react. I didn’t do much and you’re dying! I did all of this for nothing, for nothing! And it is all your fault! I should’ve broken every single bone in your body and twisted your neck. At least I would’ve gained something from that! You are so useless! 

He was wreaking havoc in your mind. The blinding pain subsided to a lingering pain, black dots swarming your vision. He seems to be doing last minute damage before he’s left with no other choice but to leave your body. With a rugged distorted babble from Bill, your whole world went dark. 

The waiting room was cold, so numbingly cold. Stan casted his gaze down to his hands. Your blood had stained them. He couldn’t tell if it was the blood from your forehead, or the blood you vomited out. But your own blood had been smeared all over him and it made him sick to his stomach. He couldn’t erase the image of your cold limp body laying on the grass, face covered in streaks of blood. This was all his fault. If he had just told you how things were from the start, this wouldn’t have happened. You would’ve been next to him, chattering his ear off about something irrelevant while asking him multiple times if he was listening to you. Despite his thoughts, your soothing presence wasn’t there to console his mourning heart. 

Your doctor had came in earlier to share the state that your body was in. Everyone listened intently to her words as she described the damage that Bill had caused to your body. She said doctors were so mortified with your condition, labeling it as one they have never seen before with how many injuries you sustained on the outside and inside. Stan and Ford had to dodge some questions that had the doctor fired at them, excusing your evenstive wounds with a slip off a mountain, silly teenage activities that almost cost you your own life. She didn’t buy it. 

The doctor's slight graphic description of your injuries only cemented the guilt deeper into Stan. He was a bad father wasn’t it? The only thing he prided himself in for doing right was so easily taken away from him in a blink of an eye. He really was a screw up. Ford and his Dad were right. 

“Stanley.” Ford’s hand on his shoulder withdrew him from his thoughts. “We need to go home. It’s late.” He looks briefly to the seat next to him. The twins had sat on the same seat, their muddled expressions were no longer on their face, instead they were sleeping peacefully, heads leaning against each other. “The twins are asleep.” He tells him. Stan’s gaze glued on his tainted hands. “I’m staying here.” He weakly said. “You need sleep, Stanley.” 

“I can sleep here, Ford.” He snapped, expression tight. “They are going to kick you out.” 

Stan shrugged, clasping his hands together. “Then they’d hafta kick me out then.” 

“I’m not leaving you here.” 

Stan leaned his head back against the wall, huffing out. “I’m not in any mood to fight with you here.” Taking off his glasses, he rubbed his burning eyes. “I’m staying here and there’s nothin’ you can do about it.” He placed his glasses on his lap and crossed his arms, closing his eyes as he shifted around to get comfortable enough to sleep. “Always been so stubborn.” Ford shook his head, getting up from the seat with a light groan. “I’m leaving.” He picks up the slumbering twins, being extra careful to not jostle them around and wake them. Stan grumbled in response, hearing Ford’s footsteps fade away in the distance. 

Stan doesn’t know how long it’s been, all he knows is that he had fallen asleep with the way his neck was sore. “Sir?” A voice broke through his drowsiness. “Sir?” They call out again. “Hm, wha?” Stan peeled open his eyes, the glaring hospital lights momentarily blinded him. Covering his eyes with his palm, he squinted at the lady in front of him. “What’s goin’ on?” 

“We’re closing up for the night, sir. I need you to leave.” She calmly said, offering a soft smile to Stan. “But my kid, they’re in here. I need to be here if anything happens.” He scrambles to put his glasses on. “I assure you sir, whoever your kid is, will be fine. We will keep a lookout if anything happens.” 

“How are you guys goin’ to keep a lookout when you’re all home sleeping away like there isn’t people dying in here!” Stan argued. “Now's not the time, sir. I need you to leave or you’d be personally escorted out by the guards.” Stan sighed, standing up from his chair. “You don’t have to do all that.” He mutters, cracking his back before walking out. Walking out into the summer night, he pulled out his phone to check the time. 

11 P.M. it read. It looked like the doctors allowed him to stay overtime. Usually they’d kick people out of the waiting rooms by around 9 P.M.

His eyes freeze at the baby picture of you on his lockscreen. The photo was taken on your fourth birthday. Stan had gone all out, as he always did, and got you a little birthday hat, little cupcake with a candle that had your age on it, and a mess of confetti and other birthday assortments. You had such a large smile on your face as you were mid bite into your cupcake. He remembered the day so vividly as if it happened yesterday. He clenched his phone tightly, tears flooding his vision. Why did it have to be you? Running his arm roughly over his eyes, he sniffed. He shoved his phone back into his pockets and started walking back to the shack. 

Ford found himself being startled awake by a knock on the door. Sluggishly getting up from the couch, he walked over to the gift shop entrance. He opened the door to be pleasantly surprised to see Stan. He stepped aside, letting Stan walk in. “Kicked you out?” 

“Yup.” Stan accentuating the ‘p’.

“Told you.” 

A quick moment of silence takes over before Stan breaks it. “Is this all my fault?” 

“You were just trying to protect them.” Ford walks over to Stan, shoving his hands under his armpits. “Look where that got ‘em.” Stan cracked his thumb, whispering something to himself before timidly looking at Ford. “Do ya think you can stay with me tonight?” He sheepishly scratches his cheek. “I don’t think I can trust myself bein’ alone or whatever.” 

Ford earnestly smiled at him. “I don’t mind.” Stan nods. “You sleep on the floor though.” 

Stan’s phone loudly rattled on his nightstand, his ringtone noisily blaring its song. “Turn it off!” Ford cried out, folding his pillow over his head. Stan arose from his abundance of blankets and grabbed his phone, dragging it off the nightstand. He squinted at the screen, trying to make sense of the blurry text. Stan reached out for his glasses, shoving them on his face and directing his eyes back on the screen. The word hospital flashed on his face. 

“It’s the hospital!” He swiped his finger, answering the call. He put his phone to his ear and anxiously waited. “Stanley Pines?” A snotty voice spoke from the phone. “Yes!” He clears his throat. “Yes, yes. That’s me. Why’re you callin’?” 

“[Name] has woken up and…” Stan had blocked everything else she said and shut up from the bed. “They’re awake!” He announced, shedding off his blankets and launching off his bed, accidentally stepping on Ford in the process. The whole morning was spent dashing around the house, vigorously getting dressed and making sure everyone was ready to head over to the hospital. After Ford’s triple check, they all clamored inside in the car and drove to the hospital. 

Stan burst into your room, his eyes locking with your bandaged form. “Dad!” You weakly called out, a shaky smile on your face. “Pumpkin!” He sighed out, relieved at seeing your beautiful smile. He wraps you in his arms, burying his face into your hair as he sobs. “I thought..I thought–!” He blubbers out. More welcoming arms wrap around you, wailing wracking through the air. “[Name]!!” Mable dragged out. “Don’t scare us like that ever again.” Dipper sniffed, scrubbing his eyes clear of tears. “Welcome back, kid.” Ford plants a kiss on the top of your head. 

“I’m here guys, you don’t have to worry so much.” You laugh, Stan wiping your tears with his thumb. “How can we not? We almost lost you, pumpkin.” After a tearful reunion, everyone stepped back, allowing you to breathe. They only gave you a few more minutes to yourself before they bombarded you with apologies. Mable and Dipper were stuck to your side, each of them giving you their own version of puppy eyes. Mable was more into it than Dipper, but you still accepted their apologies with a big hug.

“I’m sorry too, sweetheart. I shouldn’t have lied to you. I should have been honest from the get go.” You took Stan’s hand, patting it like you would a dog. “It’s okay, Dad. I forgave you long ago. I should have followed what Ford said and calmed down.” You slightly glare at Ford. “Though, I didn’t like how he said it to me at the same time, so maybe I am justified in my anger?” 

“Ford doesn’t know how to talk. What’s new?” Stan knocked his shoulder with Ford who rolled his eyes. “Yeah. I’m the butt of the joke. As always.” 

“If it isn’t you! Then it would be Dipper,” Mable pokes at him. “But me and Grunkle Stan told all the jokes possible so it isn’t as funny as making fun of you, Grunkle Ford! You’re so nerdy and losery, more than Dipper. And that isn’t a good thing.” 

A crackly laugh leaves Stan. “Thanks for explaining, dear.” Ford said with a strain, his smile wavering. “Someone one upped you, Dipper.” You chuckle. “I don’t know if I should revel in it or feel sad for Ford.” Dipper tapped his finger on his chin. “Don’t overthink it, dude.” You flick his forehead. 

“And Grunkle Ford, where is your apology?” Mable raised her chin up high, doing her best attempt of a haughty queen looking down at her jester. Ford scoffs, “I’m so sorry, your humble majesty.” Dipping his head low to mimic a bow. 

“Oh?” You and Mable share a bewildered expression. “I wasn’t expecting him to actually do it.” You look over to Dipper who had an uncomfortable expression on his face. “I don’t like what’s going on here.” 

“Wait, are you going to have a cool scar on your forehead now?” Mable questions, pointing at your bandaged forehead. Bumbling conversation fills the air, laughter occasionally humming here and there. In the end, they all had to leave for your routine check up by the doctors. Stan was the last one to bid goodbye to you. Kissing your forehead, he held onto your hand, his eyes glistening with tears. 

“I love you so much, kiddo. If I had lost you back there, I dunno what would have happened to me.” He caresses his thumb against your hand. “Don’t say stuff like that, Dad. I’m here, that’s what counts.” 

You share a long hug together, with a few tears being shed.

“I know, I know.” Giving you one last kiss and embrace, he waves you goodbye. 

“I love you!” 

“I love you more, Dad!” 

Taglist: @boredwithlifeatthispoint, @lovexsage, @teddycricketdream, @theilluminatidragonqueen, @raventeen @cedarmoonzz, @katharine3000

dm or comment if you want to be added/removed :3

[jjoongstar]

𝖍𝖔𝖙𝖊𝖑 𝖌𝖍𝖔𝖘𝖙𝖘

wc: 475 (tbh, idek what is this...)

from his recent live teehee;)

Seonghwa going on live, showing off his souvenirs that he got while on tour. some were even given by hongjoong and his stylist.

"this is San Francisco.... oh wait shit, no, its Seattle. sorry, hehe,"

laughing embarrassingly in front of the camera with his mistake bout the magnets in his hands. atinys sent laughing comments and teases him during the live. he kept on showing more of the magnets from different places he went, until,

"aahhhh~"

a familiar yet embarrassing sound emitted suddenly from behind the hotel walls. he looks straight into the camera. shocked? embarrassed? stunned? he took a second to scan around him, "is there a ghost in this hotel? I'm scared, " was all he could mutter. some atinys caught that sound and were asking bout it. Seonghwa's heart panicked a bit seeing those comments. deep down he knew what it was, where's coming from, who was involved, but he chose to cover it up by saying its just some female ghost whose haunting his hotel room and like him.

"this one was given by-"

"aaahhhh.....AAHHH JOONG AHH~"

Seonghwa has never ended a live so fast till that. without saying a single word he quickly grab his phone ending the live, closing all apps. and shut everything down. his face red in embarrassment. did atinys heard all that? please don't. he tried to convince himself. picking up the hotel's phone, he dialed the room next door. knowing the man behind the walls, he won't answer his own phone since he's busy.

the man finally stopped pounding from your behind when the phone rang. you sigh in relief when he went to pick it up. finally, after hours-

"YAHHH KIM HONGJOONG!! HAVE SOME SELF CONTROL!!"

hongjoong looks at you over his shoulder with a smirk and puts the phone on loud speaker.

"i was doing a live and atinys could hear y/n moaning, keep it down,"

you knew your voice was loud, but not this loud. you've never been so embarrassed in your whole life. not just knowing that Seonghwa heard you, but atinys too? your face was so flushed red, you hid your face in between the pillows near you.

"apologize to Seonghwa, sweetheart,", hongjoong handed you the phone.

you voice was muffled by the pillow, but Seonghwa could still hear you. he didn't mind much, cause he knew its not your fault. its the naked man who's holding out the phone to you.

"say your sorry sincerely to atinys too, baby.", hongjoong added while stroking pieces of hair out of the side of your face.

"Seonghwa, can you please tell atinys that I'm very sorry for the uhh....well...you know, that, and uhh DONT SAY IT ITS FROM ME!! just like....from next door-"

Seonghwa replied with a giggle. he can imagine so well your flustered expression, cause this wasn't the first time it happened.

dividers

[baekhyunsbestie]

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ 🎃 do you like scary movies? 🔪 .𖥔 ݁ ˖

a lil disclaimer before you dive in: this goes pretty dark. we’re talking obsession, stalking, breaking and entering, some seriously pervy vibes, and even murder. i just want to say that i absolutely do not condone any of this behavior in real life— this is all purely fictional and should stay that way, okay? if this typa story isn't your vibe, no worries!!!!! protect your peace and scroll on. take care of yourselves😚💞‼️

 ੈ✩‧₊ content: 18+/MDNI. 5.3k+ words. smut, language, baekhyun x f!reader--baekhyun is a psychologist and reader is a bakery owner, no ages specified, but i was thinking mid-late twenties!! they're also next-door neighbors 🙂‍↕️ hehe

baekhyun sits on the edge of his desk in his dimly lit home office, the dissertation on his computer screen long forgotten. his eyes drift to the sheer curtains, gently moving with the breeze from his open window. hours pass quietly, and his patience grows thin, stretched to its limit. hidden behind the ghostface mask, his deep brown eyes stay locked on you, his alluring neighbor next door.

outside, the world blurs into the background as he tunes out the laughter of the children in your care, his gaze completely captured by your captivating presence. earlier, he had seen the parents wave goodbye, their silly costumes hinting at a halloween party awaiting them. it was no surprise they chose you to babysit tonight; you were the life of the party, casting a spell on the kids in a way that even sabrina spellman would envy.

every movement of yours is etched into the chaotic corners of his mind. you embody perfection as you effortlessly play dress-up with the kids, sharing sweet treats and settling in for another tim burton film. that beautiful smile adorns your lips—a smile that, while it doesn’t quite reach your eyes, is enough. enough to delight the children, enough to maintain appearances. but baekhyun sees beyond the surface; he can read the subtle nuances that betray your true feelings. he knows that if these were your children—his and yours—you would shine with a warmth and devotion that’s unmistakable. the mere thought triggers a fire within him, sending a rush of desire coursing through his veins, and a low groan escapes his lips. but how could he ever convince you to have his kids when you don’t see him that way?

he knows he needs a plan—a way to draw you in and make you see the real him. in his mind, he's a catch, someone truly special. he tells himself he's a good guy, a smart one, too, with a promising career as a psychologist and a hefty retirement plan waiting for him. he believes he’s perfect for you, convinced that he could take care of you in ways no one else could. little does he realize, he’s always watching from the shadows, convinced that his intentions are pure, even as his obsession grows deeper.

and after all, he knows so much about you. he’s aware that you’ve recently moved here from a few towns over, stepping into a new life as a single woman with no kids. he would never forget seeing you for the first time. it was a sunny spring day, the weather was perfect, the moving truck parked in the drive way out front, while watching your family and friends help unload and organize the furniture in your new house. 

you’ve opened a small, cozy bakery, every pastry crafted with love and care. the warm, inviting space reflects your personality—painted in shades of your favorite color. scattered horror movie posters, especially scream, show your love for slasher films.

from his office window, he watches. he can see straight into your living room, where your tv bathes the room in a soft light. you’re always lounging on the couch in those tiny shorts that make his mind race. weekends are your time, dedicated to marathons of horror films, with scream playing over and over, clearly your favorite.

you’re all alone in that big house, and he can’t shake the feeling that you need him. he’d be the missing puzzle piece—fitting you perfectly. he imagines himself slipping into your life, the one who helps you at the bakery and shares your love for horror. he envisions nights where your screams of pleasure would align perfectly with the shrieks on the screen as he brings you to your climax, down on his knees before you, his head between your legs. 

baekhyun fondly recalls the day, just after your move-in, when the mailman mistakenly dropped your letters into his mailbox. a wicked grin spread on his face at the memory; finally, he could introduce himself. after thirty minutes of rehearsing his lines in front of the mirror, he stands at your door, donning his friendliest smile, excitement bubbling just beneath the surface. 

when the door swings open, he’s struck breathless by your presence—so devastatingly beautiful, you. he notices the broom in your hand, hinting that you’ve been tidying up. you wore denim overalls over a simple tank top. your hair is swept up in a claw clip, with a few loose strands gently framing your face. sweat glistens on your forehead, clinging to the sides of your cheeks, accentuating your expression of confusion.

“oh. um, hi? can i help you?” you ask politely, a hint of an awkward smile gracing your lips.

baekhyun snaps out of his daze, realizing he’s been standing there in silence. he clears his throat, shaking off the momentary haze before speaking, “hi, i’m your next-door neighbor, baekhyun. welcome to the neighborhood. um, i believe this is yours; it was in my mailbox.” he offers you the mail, his nervousness evident in his slightly trembling hands.

you invite him inside for a glass of lemonade, gratitude dancing in your eyes as you thank him for the mix-up. with a playful tone, you mention how you’re still getting used to the kindness of people in smaller towns. as you lead him to the kitchen, you apologize for the clutter of boxes and bubble wrap scattered around. he takes a seat at the table, casually glancing around while you fetch the drinks. his eyes wander to the living room bookshelf, where a few self-help books catch his attention. baekhyun, not missing a beat, shares that he’s a psychologist, mainly focusing on writing dissertations to bring fresh perspectives to cognitive psychology. you find his work captivating—so much so that you tell him, with genuine admiration, that people like him make the world a better place.

oh, if only you knew.

as you talk, you weave together the threads of your life—how you left everything behind after a painful breakup with the man you once believed would be you’d grow old and gray with. the memory stings, recalling how he would betray your trust with your best friend while you were away on business trips. you share how that heartbreak changed everything, ultimately guiding you to this charming old house that now feels like home. 

you explain how you quit your old job, a role that never truly fulfilled you. then, your eyes light up as you reveal your childhood dream of opening a bakery—a dream you’re finally chasing. you’ve even signed the lease for a cute little space right in the heart of downtown, a step closer to making that dream a reality. 

unbeknownst to you, as you sit beneath the soft glow of your kitchen light, baekhyun feels an overwhelming wave of desire wash over him. he’s rock hard beneath the kitchen table, ever since you opened the door and welcoming him in. he’s utterly entranced by the way your hands unconsciously glide over your bare thigh as you speak, igniting a fire within him. the light in your eyes sparkles with passion, your voice a melodic cadence as you share your visions for your bakery—the delicate pastries and savory sandwiches that will soon fill your charming shop. it’s all too much for him; you seem perfect—too perfect for this world.

then, as you lick the last drop of lemonade from the rim of your glass, the sinful thought of those same lips and tongue and how they’d feel on his aching dick pushes him to reach his climax. a shudder runs through him, and he bites back a groan, hiding it behind an exaggerated yawn. he blames it on the sleepless nights spent in research. thankful for the baggy black sweats he wears, he quickly excuses himself, a rush of embarrassment flooding his cheeks as he retreats, relieved that the fabric conceals the mess he’s made underneath.

after that, the interactions blend into casual small talk and fleeting waves of hellos and goodbyes, leaving him longing for more of those stolen moments with you.

he remembers spending hours diving into your social media after your first meeting, each scroll revealing new pieces of your story. in just a few hours, he learned so much about you. he knows your favorite foods, cocktails, and music, and he can name all the concerts and festivals you’ve attended, along with the places, dates, and people you went with. he’s familiar with all the vacations you’ve taken and the hobbies that make you smile. every like and dislike, every old post of you and your ex-boyfriend, painted a picture of who you are—one that captivated him completely.

thoughts of that past lover linger like shadows in his mind, the one you left behind in search of solace. the idea that someone could wound you so deeply, sending you fleeing to a new town, sets off a fierce rage within him. he clenches his fist around the knife resting against his thigh, its cold steel spinning slowly between his fingers, a dark reminder of the lengths he might go to. 

he could kill him. both of them—your douchebag ex and slut of a best friend. the thought excited him, a twisted thrill coursing through his veins. he imagined taking his time, savoring every moment as their lives faded away. a laugh might escape him as he’d watch the light leave their eyes, knowing he was doing it all for you—the love of his life. just the thought of your smile and the melody of your laughter quickened his heartbeat. he would go to any lengths to ensure your happiness, willing to pay any price to keep you safe. all you’d have to do is say the word.

just then, snapping out of his thoughts, the parents return, their footsteps echoing on the driveway before a knock sounds at the door. the children, who’ve been squealing with laughter all night, race to the entryway, eager to greet their parents, still decked out in their poorly chosen costumes. and finally—finally—they shuffle out one by one, leaving the house to fall into a peaceful, almost eerie silence, with only you left to occupy the night. 

this is it. the moment has arrived, the one he’s been anticipating all night.

baekhyun fished a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket, the hastily scrawled digits smudged and jumbled—a chaotic reflection of his flustered thoughts. these were the personal details he had picked up while lounging on his porch, book in hand and coffee in the other, absorbed in the quiet of the morning. he could still hear the rhythm of your breath from your daily jog as you approached your house, your voice lilting with familiarity as you chatted on your phone, casually reciting your number to the person on the other end. with a decisive flick of his wrist, he pulled out his phone, his fingers dancing across the screen with a fluidity born from habit, dialing your number with a sense of anticipation thrumming in his chest.

his gaze remained locked on the window, watching intently as you casually tossed a bag of popcorn into the microwave, the scent of buttery goodness soon filling the air. you moved effortlessly, rifling through netflix’s horror category, your face illuminated by the screen's eerie glow. the flickering light danced across your features, highlighting your concentration as you searched for the perfect scare to accompany your night.

his anticipation tightens the air, but you don’t even glance at your phone when it buzzes. the silence on your end feels louder than it should, and baekhyun’s jaw clenches. a low, guttural frustration threatens to escape his throat, his grip on the knife at his side growing dangerously tense. he draws in a deep breath, the cool metal pressing against his palm. stay calm, he tells himself. his pulse thrums in his ears as he gives you one more chance.

the microwave chimes, a cheerful reminder that your popcorn is ready. you open the door, the warm, buttery aroma spilling out like a cozy embrace, wrapping around you as you pour the fluffy kernels into a bowl. your gaze shifts to the phone screen—an unknown number flashes, irritation simmering just beneath the surface. "oh, fuck me," you mutter under your breath, barely loud enough to be heard. one of the kids must have left a toy behind again, refusing to sleep without it. you sigh at the thought, exasperation bubbling up as you reach for the phone, its persistent ringing cutting through the quiet.

"hello?" you answer, forcing a brighter tone, only to be met with silence—except for the faint, unsettling sound of heavy breathing on the other end. you have no idea that the caller is watching you through his window, eyes locked on your every move, his breath ragged as his hand strokes himself, utterly fixated on the sight of you.

you don’t let them get a word in. “go bother someone else, you freak,” you snap, cutting them off as you toss your phone onto the kitchen island with a frustrated clatter. leaning over the counter, you absentmindedly crunch popcorn between your teeth, your thoughts drifting. after hours of looking after a group of loud, sugar-fueled brats—who were mostly well-behaved—the last thing you need is some creep making prank calls.

when the phone rings again, a surge of frustration rises. you snatch it up, already preparing to unload a string of curses. but the words die on your lips the moment you hear the low, menacing voice on the other end. it snakes through the receiver, making your stomach drop. 

"you’ll be fucking sorry if ya do that again, sweetheart."

a sharp thud strikes the side of your house, the sound unsettling in the stillness of the night. your breath hitches, pulse racing. just a cat, you tell yourself, forcing down the panic that claws at your chest. you pull the phone from your ear, fingers trembling as you hover over the screen, daring yourself to hang up. you could call 911 in seconds. so fast. 

"don't test me." the voice on the other end, deep and edged with malice, seeps into your veins, freezing you in place. "or i'll have to come in there... and make you regret it." 

your throat tightens. compliance feels like your only option.

your mind is spinning with confusion, thoughts crashing into each other. are you really thinking about provoking this mystery guy, just out of curiosity? you've seen enough horror movies to know the warning: get too close, and you could end up cut to pieces the second he walks through your door.

“what do you want?” you manage to ask, your voice quivering like a fragile leaf in the wind, much to baekhyun’s delight. a smirk dances on his lips as he leans closer, tempted to retract his earlier words. the urge to break in and claim you overwhelms him, a primal instinct igniting within. the way you nervously bite your bottom lip and toy with the hem of your shirt suggests a part of you wouldn’t entirely mind if he did. he can sense it—the shiver in your breath, the heat rising in your cheeks—as if his voice alone is enchanting, stirring an undeniable desire deep within you.

the quiver in your voice sends a thrill through him, a captivating note of fear he savors like fine wine. “no need to be frightened, princess. don’t let those tears spill just yet,” baekhyun teases, his gaze piercing and calculating as he studies your every reaction. “just follow my lead, and i promise, nothing terrible will happen to you.” 

before you can form the words to question his intentions, he leans closer, a predatory glint in his eyes. “now, i want you to put on a little show for me. undress.” 

the thought of performing a sultry striptease for a mysterious, menacing stranger sends a thrilling jolt through you, awakening a passionate fire deep within. yet, it’s the image of your nosy neighbors catching even the slightest glimpse of the entire spectacle that truly makes your heart race, heat pooling low in your core. especially your irresistibly handsome psychologist neighbor—the one who sent your heart into a flurry the day he delivered your mail. the one who makes you blush every time you exchange a casual wave while jogging through the neighborhood, your pulse quickening at the mere sight of him. the one who occupies your thoughts late at night, a persistent whisper in your mind as you find yourself lost in fantasies, touching yourself in the shower, on the bed, and even on the couch. 

baekhyun, oblivious to this electric twist of your fantasy, doesn’t realize he wouldn’t need to intimidate you to stir this desire. just the thought of it has you growing increasingly wet, a delicious tension building with every pulse of anticipation. with a breathless flutter in your chest, you pull the phone away from your face, switching it to speaker mode to free your hands, your mind swirling with the provocative images dancing just beneath the surface.

“if you hang up on me again, i’m coming in, baby,” baekhyun purred, a playful smirk dancing on his lips as his gaze roamed hungrily over you. your heart raced as you slowly grabbed the bottom of your shirt and puling it over your head, revealing the smooth skin beneath, the absence of a bra heightening the tension in the air. the soft fabric slipped from your fingers, pooling on the hardwood floor like a forgotten memory.

“that’s right, angel. show me how soft those beautiful tits are,” you eagerly comply with his instructions, surrendering to the bewitching demands of the distorted voice on the line. your fingers find the hardened buds, pinching and teasing them, drawing out a moan that escapes your lips like a whispered secret. every touch is a spark of pleasure, a sweet indulgence for the faceless stranger lurking at the other end of the call.

baekhyun hums, the sound low and approving, sending a shiver straight through you. your mind races, painting vivid scenes of him pleasuring himself, every motion playing out in your head. "are you getting wet?" he asks, his voice thick with confidence and desire, completely unashamed.

“mhm,” you moan, the sound spilling from your mouth before you even realize it, your fingers swirling around the sensitive buds, lost in a haze of pleasure and anticipation.

“show me.” his voice drips with urgency, each demand more fervent than the last. your breaths come in shallow gasps, the heat of the moment thickening the air around you. you can almost envision him behind the glass, furiously pleasuring himself, absorbed by your every movement. a pang of desire surges within you as you long for him to emerge from the shadows, to reveal the beautiful mess he’s making of himself—flesh against flesh, desire laid bare.

“what's on your mind, princess?” baekhyun’s voice pierces the intoxicating silence, and you realize you’ve been lost in your thoughts, eyes tightly shut against the overwhelming sensation coursing through you. you feel a tingle ripple across your body, heat blooming in various spots as you instinctively begin to explore the terrain of your own desire, your fingers tracing the curves and dips that make you ache for him even more.

"how i love being bossed around like this." the words slip from your lips, dripping with a shameless allure, and the thrill of your own audacity leaves you breathless, too intoxicated to feel regret. a lush moan escapes as your fingers wander, seeking the neglected warmth between your legs, the rough fabric of your denim teasingly obstructing your touch. 

baekhyun’s eyes widen, a quiet laugh almost slipping out at how bold you’ve become. aren’t you an easy little thing? how fast did he get this unfiltered side of you to show—five, maybe six minutes? you moan softly in his ear as you find the perfect angle to touch yourself, waves of pleasure rippling through you. “oh, god,” you gasp, your voice shaky and soft. his breathing picks up, more frantic now, as he watches your every move.

“show me,” he murmurs, his voice a low, teasing whisper that cuts through the stillness of the night. “spread your legs in front of the window, let me watch you.” 

to his surprise, your anticipation matches his own. you lean back, pressing your spine against the side of the couch, ensuring your silhouette is perfectly framed for his hungry gaze. 

he watches closely, his breath catching as you slip out of your shorts, the fabric gliding down your legs. you obey his command eagerly, spreading your legs the moment you're free, revealing yourself to him. the air feels electric, every move adding to the tension between you, pulling him in like a magnetic force of pure desire.

baekhyun’s tongue glides over his lips, drawn to the enticing glimmer that dances on your most intimate folds. “touch yourself,” he commands, urging you to imitate him. you find yourself in the cozy confines of your living room, curtains drawn wide open, exposing you to the well-lit street where the remnants of the halloween night linger. it's well past midnight; the trick-or-treaters have long retreated to their homes. the thought of being caught sends a thrill through both your bodies, a delicious shiver that only heightens the atmosphere.

your fingers glide over your throbbing nub, a sense of urgency building within you as you quicken your pace. baekhyun’s voice breaks through the haze, showering you with praise that excites your desire even further, pushing you to explore your body with passion under his lustful gaze.

“that’s right, baby,” baekhyun murmurs, his voice a sultry whisper that sparks a flame deep within you, sending shivers straight to your throbbing core. his pet names wrap around you like a velvet ribbon and you can’t get enough of it. “ya look so sexy, playing with your pretty pussy for me, princess. she’s drenched for me—so fucking soaked, just from the sound of my voice. you’re leaking onto those floors, all for me, aren’t you?”

he huffs into the phone, the breathless sound thick with need, feeling himself teetering on the edge of bliss. baekhyun fights the urge to shut his eyes, longing to immerse himself in the sensations you’re creating, but he can’t bear to miss a single moment of your tantalizing display. instead, he leans into his words, weaving a web of longing to stave off the impending climax, each syllable dripping with desire.

you’re caught in a fit of sobs and whimpers, completely unable to rein in your emotions. unconsciously, you part your legs as wide as they can go, igniting a delicious burn in your thighs that only heightens your desperation. “you don’t feel embarrassed? hah. playing with yourself like this for a stranger?” his words, juvenile and taunting, only fuel your growing need. you swallow back a sharp retort, wary of the consequences of your attitude. instead, your fingers continue their relentless assault on your clit, a forbidden pleasure that leaves you breathless and craving more.

“i-i wouldn’t usually—hnnnghh” your words falter, swallowed by a breathy moan that escapes your lips, the rest of your sentence fading into oblivion. desire surges through you as you feel yourself teetering on the precipice of pleasure, mirroring his own urgency. in that moment, the conversation drifts away, leaving only the sweet sound of your shared, exasperated moans hanging in the air, a testament to the intoxicating connection between you. “but how could i resist? i like you telling me what to do. mmm, and i bet your real voice sounds even sexier.”

baekhyun grunts, his breath hitching as he grips himself, thumb gliding over the sensitive slit and spreading precum across the flushed tip. “don’t worry. you’ll find out soon enough, i promise,” he rasps, his voice low and rough like gravel. you can feel the urgency in his movements, hear the slick sound of his hand moving faster, and even though you haven’t seen his face, the vivid image of his throbbing cock, his eyes fixed on your trembling, bare body, consumes you. your vision fades to white, a wave of ecstasy crashing over you as you give in to the pleasure, squirting onto the window and leaving shiny streaks behind.

baekhyuns groans in your ear, his voice dripping with reckless abandon, echoing through the stillness of the night. he’s completely devoid of class, his primal instincts overpowering any sense of decorum. as he reaches his peak, he releases himself with a fervor that sends a cascade of warmth spilling across the window of his office, just as you did. 

breathless, he watches you through a haze of lust, his eyes heavy-lidded yet filled with a playful intensity. you bite your lip, a gesture that betrays your yearning for more, your body aching for repeated waves of ecstasy. is it possible you don't want this night to slip away into oblivion? 

“huh. i didn’t think i could do that,” you think outloud watching your juices slowly drip down the window.

“i bet ya could do it again. how ‘bout we use my fingers this time? if you’re a good girl maybe i’ll use my mouth, too.” he teases, a mischievous smirk dancing on his lips. you can't help but shake your head and roll your eyes at the audacity of this mystery man on your phone.

“awwww, why not?” he whines, his tone dripping with mock disappointment. “don’t ya trust me?” his teasing banter lingers in the air, crackling with unspoken desires, making you feel breathless with anticipation.

you can’t quite wrap your mind around how he can ask you a question like that, as if the two of you aren’t complete strangers. it’s as if the memory of his earlier threats has been wiped clean, leaving only the enticing edge of his voice in its place. some twisted part of you takes the reins, shoving your common sense aside. “i’ll treat ya right,” he promises, his tone smooth like velvet. 

your eyes drop, embarrassment flooding through you as you notice the wetness he's drawn out of you with nothing more than his voice. a tightness forms in your chest, the fear of feeling foolish creeping in, but your arousal only grows, pushing aside any doubt. the tingling in your clit fades, shifting into a steady, throbbing rhythm—an unspoken invitation.

baekhyun watches with a teasing spark in his eyes as your shaky legs carry you toward the front door. in no time, he’s outside, making his way to you. he hears the soft clatter of you fumbling with the lock, and when it clicks open, it feels like an unspoken invitation for him to step inside. the tension between you hums, daring him to close the gap and take control, face to face. the air crackles with the thrill of giving in, charged with a magnetic pull that’s impossible to resist.

you fling the door open, and there he is—a tall figure standing silently in a ghostface costume. your eyes trail over him in confusion, pausing when they land on his shoes. you know those sneakers. the kind hypebeasts chase after, selling for a fortune after retail. only one person on this block would own them. only one.

and you’re sure you saw him earlier today through that very window your orgasm stains, wearing those exact shoes, hauling bags of groceries into his house.

“baekhyun?” you breathe, suddenly feeling small. a flutter of butterflies coursing through your stomach as your gaze lands on his right hand, gripping his phone. your number is glaringly lit on the screen.

“trick or treat?” his voice dances like a playful tune behind the mask, a teasing reminder of the pleasure he just gave you. he slowly lifts the mask from his face, letting it rest atop his head, revealing a smile so radiant it could light up the empire state building. the smile feels oddly out of place, totally clashing with the filthy phone call you just shared—a side you'd never expect from a psychologist.

and then it hits you—you don’t truly know him. you have no idea that, when you're not around, he slips the spare key hidden under the rock in your front yard and lets himself into your home. you’re oblivious to him wandering through your space, climbing the stairs to your bedroom, rifling through your drawers, trying to piece together the mystery of who you are. he’s desperate to learn you in ways your belongings might reveal.

you’d never guess that while you’re out early in the morning, heading to the bakery before dawn, he’s inside, using that same key. one hand is wrapped fisting himself while the other clutches your worn underwear, pressed against his nose, inhaling your scent like it’s the only thing keeping him alive.

you remain completely unaware of it all. as his eyes lock onto yours, heat rushes to your cheeks, creeping up the back of your neck. 

you end the call, watching his screen fade to black, the sudden silence feeling heavier than it should.

wait, when did you give him your number? 

a shiver runs down your spine, an uneasy tension settling in. you try to push it away, but the feeling lingers like a whisper in your mind, urging you to stay on guard. you shake your head, convincing yourself you’re overreacting. it’s a small town; everyone knows each other. he must have gotten your number from someone else. or did you give it to him when you first met? maybe he found it on your bakery's instagram. yup, that has to be it.

feeling a surge of reassurance, you smile back at him. “i didn’t know psychologists enjoyed dressing up for halloween and playing pranks. i always thought doctors were above that,” you tease, your heart racing as he gazes down at you, a predatory glint in his eyes, as if he’s about to destroy you in the most tempting way imaginable.

“there’s a lot you don’t know about me,” he replies, stepping confidently into your home and locking the door behind him. his voice is low and inviting. “why don’t i show you?”

he slides the ghostface mask back on, the sinister smile of the mask contrasting with the anticipation in the air. he steps closer, backing you into the living room, his hands slide to your waist, his thumbs drawing soft circles on your sides, sending a rush through your body. you can feel your heart pounding, the air between you buzzing with tension. you bite your lower lip, trying to hide a smile, but the excitement overflows, slipping out as a playful grin.

"you can do whatever you want with me," your voice low and dripping with promise as you guide him toward the couch. the low hum of tension crackles in the air as you straddle him, sinking onto his lap. the air is thick with tension as you settle onto his lap, straddling him. the moment your thighs meet his, you feel his hardened length pressing against your skin, lighting a surge of heat that races straight to your core. his hands glide up the smooth skin of your thighs until they reach your ass, where he cups you firmly, squeezing gently. your breath hitches, the sensation flooding you with anticipation as your body responds to the undeniable pull between you two. the sensation stirs something deep within, wetness pooling between your legs.

"but please, don’t kill me, mr. ghostface..." you whisper softly, your warm breath brushing against his neck, your lips almost touching his skin. you glide them upward, the gentle, teasing contact sending shivers of excitement between you. when you reach the curve of his ear, you linger just long enough to spark an irresistible shiver through him. “i wanna be in the sequel.”

 ੈ✩‧₊ a/n: thank u to this anon for the idea!!! i didn't think i would ever write something like this, but here we are. #neversaynever i guess. oh, and a happy halloweenie to those who celebrate!!!!! <3 what are you dressing up as? stay safe my precious babies love u lotz mwah

ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭* masterlist ° ᡣ𐭩 . 

[crguang]

Smutty prompt 8, 12, or 17 for Kafka? 🥺

chose 8 and 12 for this one hehe, it's kafka dick wednesday i just decided (i yearn for it)

cw: gp!kafka, blowjob, face fucking? idk

You slightly pull away from Kafka’s embrace as she retrieves her phone from her coat pocket and accepts the call. Your arms hang loosely around her frame leaning against the back of the couch, a small pout on your face at the idea of having to wait for more of her attention. Kafka smiles when she meets your eyes, bringing the device to her ear and briefly resting her index finger on her lips in a silent command to be quiet. She answers the phone and begins talking to whoever is on the other line. Her free hand absentmindedly plays with a stray strand of your hair near your jaw, gaze lowering to watch how it curls around her finger. She hums to indicate that she’s listening, and you already feel your patience waning because Kafka usually deals with her business in private and you’ve already waited a week for her to finish up “something” at work. You’ve missed her and now that she’s here with you, you don’t feel like losing more of her to her mysterious work. Something shifts in her bored expression, a slight down curve of her lips, and you know she’ll be on the phone for longer than the quick call she promised you. 

Kafka notices your displeasure and lifts her hand to your cheek to pat it a few times. You narrow your eyes but she only replies to her interlocutor something about a shipment being received long ago. You try to decipher what she could be talking about and give up after a minute, the lack of context makes it difficult to connect her sentences together. Her thumb moves to your upper lip, her silk glove is soft as she swipes the pad of her finger on your lips. She multitasks well and doesn’t miss a beat in the conversation while she’s touching your face, eyes focused on the movement of her thumb tracing your cupid’s bow. You wait another minute, your own hands trailing up her back under her coat in a futile attempt at keeping yourself occupied. You sigh, tightening your hold on her body and leaning into her once more, resting your chin on her shoulder. You can vaguely hear a raspy voice on the other line, but the words are either muffled or don’t make any sense to you. 

“Relax,” Kafka says into the phone and her fingers sink into your hair, lightly scratching your scalp, “we’ve planned for the possibility. They’ll play right into our hands.”

The repetitive gesture soothes you a little and your eyes briefly shut to nuzzle into her; your lips find the skin where her neck meets her shoulder and plant a few kisses there. Kafka sighs, no doubt at something the other person said, but there’s a hint of pleasure in it. You trail kisses up her neck and across the underside of her jaw, and her head tilts, an implied permission to keep going. Her hand stays in your hair, fingers boredly curling the strands. Your lips part to place an open-mouthed kiss on her jaw and your hands wander down her back and around her waist to play with the waistband of her shorts. You fiddle with the handkerchief in her shorts as you kiss her face, going as far as the corner of her mouth before her hand leaves your head to rest her index on your mouth. You look up into her playful eyes, pouting. She speaks up again about studying a script and lightly taps your lips all the while. You’re sick of waiting, she’s right in front of you and you don’t even get to enjoy her presence. Your fingers toy with her waistband, snapping the material against her stomach, and an idea pops into your mind. 

Kafka raises a single eyebrow at your growing smile, the one you have when you’re trying to suppress one. You shrug at her inquisitive look, hands wandering down her abdomen to trail down her thighs. Her eyes narrow even as she answers a question with a dismissive, “Yeah, yeah.” You put on your most innocent expression and grip her plush thigh with one hand while the other slithers closer to the apex of them, caressing the material of her shorts. An amused glint shines in her gaze, her smile widening just a touch; a challenge she's daring you to take on. You hold her stare, suddenly growing bolder, and let a hand stroke her between her legs. Kafka doesn’t move, only regards you with more interest than two minutes earlier. She doesn’t miss a beat in the conversation. Your fingers teasingly caress her over her clothes, and you refrain the urge from biting the inside of your cheek when you feel her harden under your ministrations. Her growing bulge is noticeable, but she’s not ashamed in the slightest. Kafka plays with your earlobe with her free hand, rubbing the cartilage with her thumb, faking disinterest by humming into the phone. 

You start to feel a little hot just at the thought of what you’re going to do next. You cup her between her thighs in a firm grip and revel in the way her eyes flicker to yours instantly. Her gaze grows heated, following your every movement as you sink to your knees and tilt your head to face her with a smug smile tugging at your lips. You don’t tease her much, pulling down her shorts and pantyhose to her ankles and exposing her pretty boxers. Kafka’s hand moves to the back of your head to loosely grip your hair. She doesn’t apply any pressure, so you’re free to move as you please. You trace the outline of her bulge for a few seconds, anticipation bubbling in your belly, then place your mouth directly over it in a leisure kiss. You stroke her with a hand while your lips kiss her over the fabric, and Kafka shifts slightly, opening her legs wider to give you better access. She’s still in deep conversation and frankly, you’re getting annoyed. You pull her underwear down in one smooth motion and free her hard cock, feeling an arrogant kind of satisfaction at the sight of her already hard for you when you’ve barely touched her. 

“I know,” Kafka drawls exasperatedly in response to something said on the other line, elongating the second word. You wrap your hand around her cock, squeezing just right, and she inhales more sharply through her nose before she replies, “No, we’ll arrive in the morning to set it up.”

You don’t care for what she’s saying. Your hand moves up and down her length from base to tip, thumb tracing the most prominent vein up to the mushroom head, eyes fixed on your task. Your tongue swipes over your bottom lip almost unconsciously. Your throat is getting drier by the second. You lean forward to give her tip soft kitten licks, lashes fluttering at the taste of her skin, and the grip in your hair gets tighter. Kafka stares down at you, now more focused on you than the conversation still happening over the phone. Her replies come a little late as you lick a broad stripe up her cock, massaging her balls with a hand. White pearls of pre-cum coat her head at the sensation of your tongue wetting her cock and you decide to ignore her sensitive tip for now, kissing her base and the faint veins there. 

Kafka swallows, her hips softly thrusting further into your mouth, and she hums again, a little too long for it to have been intentional. Her eyelids are lowered and you can see the restraint in her expression when you look up to meet her eyes. She nods absentmindedly, then seems to remember that the other person can’t see her and that she actually has to reply.

“Yeah, we—” You apply some pressure on her cock at the same time your lips wrap around her head and suck hard, and Kafka pauses to swallow a moan even as she guides her dick deeper into your mouth with the hand on your head. “We should… Yeah…”

Your eyes close at the feeling of her cock filling your mouth, the weight of her familiar and arousing. You feel your own arousal dampen your underwear. Your tongue tastes salt when it swipes over her length and you use a hand to stroke what can’t fit in your mouth, 

“Mmm… Sure…” Kafka is rapidly losing interest in whatever is being said. Her breaths quicken, though she’s good at keeping them inaudible. You can tell the exact moment she decides that her need is more important than this phone call; her fingers burrow into your hair and pull harshly to separate your mouth from her cock, and you whine open-mouthed, a string of saliva stretching thinly between your tongue and her tip. “Yeah, whatever— Silver Wolf, I’ll have to call you back.”

Kafka doesn’t wait for a reply. She hangs up the call and tosses her phone on the couch before looking down at you with a dark smile that holds a thousand filthy promises. Her hands cup your cheeks, the touch deceivingly tender. 

“Since you’re so impatient…” Her thumbs stroke your skin and she arches towards your face, a command on her lips, “open your mouth wider for me, baby.”

You obey almost immediately. Without the need to bite back her reactions, Kafka groans low in her throat as you take her into your warm, tight mouth once more. She holds your head where you are and fucks your face instead, hips thrusting her cock deeper until you feel the tip brush the back of your throat. You can only stare up at her and let her use your mouth to build the pleasure buried deep in her belly, delighting in all the way her features twist and twitch. Mind a little hazy, Kafka thrusts deeper and your eyes begin to sting with unshed tears from how big she is. Your hands grip her thighs tightly. Her muscles twitch, her pre-cum fills your mouth, and you squeeze your thighs together knowing she’s close. Her groans and raspy moans are music to your ears and serve only to heighten your desire to have her come in your mouth. Kafka’s hips lose their steady rhythm, growing more desperate and eager, and with a long moan, you feel her cum hit the back throat in hot spurts. You’re forced to swallow and breathe heavily through your nose, a couple of tears falling from your lashes and running down your cheeks. You moan around her cock, sucking her thick head to coax more out of her. Her hold on your hair is tight, there’s a pleasant pulsing in your ears as Kafka regains composure and slowly inches out of your mouth. 

Her lips are parted, her pupils are blown, and she brings a thumb up to the corner of your lips to wipe the trickle of cum sliding down your skin. Kafka uses her other hand to wipe away the tears gathered on your cheeks. Her low voice drips with self-assurance, a bit strained at the edges, and she smiles smugly at the mess she’s already made of you.

“Crying already?...” She chuckles, eyes narrowing. “I'm not quite done with you yet. For this cute little stunt you pulled, I’ll fucking ruin you.”

[hetalimagines]

General headcanons for Alfred as a boyfriend (SFW)

Here's my first actual post on this blog, hehe... I can't find the ask but someone requested some Alfred headcanons, so here are my rambles about what I think he's like as a boyfriend!

He’s honestly not the most traditionally romantic person. Your relationship is more like friends who make out sometimes. But he does have his own little ways of showing you he loves you!

He’ll put together playlists of songs that remind him of you. They’re mostly loose connections, like maybe a song mentions your eye color, or the lyrics remind him of a date you went on together, or it just sounds romantic and makes him wanna kiss you. He likes to sit with you while you listen (to every single song), and he interrupts the songs a bit to explain why he chose them.

“This one had me thinking what if we were dancing in a ballroom together, and out of nowhere, bam! Zombies bust in. The door crashes to the ground! Our dance turns into one of those cool fighting scenes with the—oh, this part reminded me of the time I woke up early and you were about to fall off the bed. You had a cute bedhead.”

(You have no idea what the lyrics are at this point.)

Dates with him are pretty casual, more like “hanging out” than anything fancy. Maybe you stay at home and watch movies/play games, or you go out for dinner at a local diner, or you go do awful karaoke together, or you go and prank a friend together.

He’s happy as long as he’s with you. Bonus if there’s food and/or drink.

He occasionally takes you out to a more traditional restaurant and dresses for the occasion. They’re usually expensive, too. The food isn’t his preference (too complicated for his palate), but if it makes you happy, he’s all for dealing with it for just one night.

His primary love languages are acts of service and quality time. He’s always doing what he can to help you out (and feel proud of himself in the process). Whether he helps you run errands, runs a bath for you ahead of time, or fluffs your pillow before you get in bed, it’s all because he wants to make your life easier!

He gets a little jealous if you ever spend time with your shared friends without him, or if you spend more time with others than him.

He’s so excited if you take interest in any of his hobbies. Movies? He’ll ask if you want to co-write a script with him. (He’s very relaxed about what exactly ends up in the script.) Archaeology? He has so many random facts to dump on you, and he’ll be super impressed by any knowledge you have on it. Conspiracy theories? Time to watch a bunch of documentaries! He enjoys them despite their flaws, but lets you know exactly when something is false and what actually happened.

He tries to take interest in your hobbies, too, even if he doesn’t understand what you’re talking about. It could be the most boring thing and he’d still listen and ask you questions about it. If it makes you happy, he wants to know all about it.

Pet names from him consist of things like babe, dude (💀), honey, occasionally sweetie, (jokingly… mostly) prince or princess. It’s all over the place. He’ll call you honey and dude back-to-back sometimes.

He loves debating if you’re comfortable with it! But be warned, he gets very heated about certain topics. His sense of justice is important to him. Otherwise, he’s usually not serious about these debates and doesn’t care who wins.

He tries to keep things light and doesn’t usually let people see his more serious side. He’ll open up to you more over time, however. It’s really him letting a wall down and allowing himself to get closer to you.

Every now and then, he has days where he’s a lot quieter and calmer than usual. He just wants to relax, stay on the couch with you and watch movies or simply chat. Maybe a movie chattering in the background as he tells you about his childhood. He doesn’t try so hard to keep up this energetic, heroic persona.

He’s right back to normal the next day like nothing happened.

Likes to annoy you for fun. Not in a mean-spirited way. He just thinks your responses are cute and has poor impulse control. Poking your cheeks or ruffling your hair or playing an obnoxious song loudly on the stereo while he dances. But he’ll back off if you’re genuinely upset with him. He means no harm.

He loves if you’re willing to play along with whatever he gets up to. Maybe he’s decided he’s going to try and vacuum the whole house while doing a handstand on the vacuum. You can hold onto his legs to help him stay balanced.

This man is very impulsive and has a tendency to get himself hurt. Random bruises all over his body or a cut along his forearm. He bounces back easily, and doesn’t want to fuss over it, but he lowkey likes if you baby him about it. He’ll always say how it’s not a big deal and he can take it, but his heart does this little flutter when you show concern, and even more if you force him to take better care of himself.

He burns himself in the kitchen and you force him to run it under cold water. He’s swooning inside.

He likes to gossip about others, especially over breakfast. He can’t help it; he’s just nosy, and he always has an idea of what’s going on and how he can help out. Huge bonus if you gossip with him!

He loves to feed you, but the majority of the food he brings for you is burgers or tubs of ice cream. He likes to experiment with the burgers’ toppings and seasonings, but they’re all burgers nonetheless.

Every now and then, he does plan some big romantic endeavor. It’s like a surprise. You never know when it’s coming… You wake up one morning and find out he’s booked a week long cruise, your bedroom is filled with balloons, and there’s enough breakfast food on the table to feed an army.

He does this thing sometimes (often) where he swoops in and has to save you. A puddle on the ground? No need to fear! He picks you up and swiftly carries you over it. The safest place for you is in his arms. He’ll even lay down and let you use him as a bridge if you want.

A suspicious penny on the sidewalk? LOOK OUT, IT MIGHT BE A BOMB! Let HIM step on it before you get blown up!

He steps on it. Nothing happens. Better safe than sorry!

If you’re the more independent type, that won’t stop him from trying. He just wants to keep you safe and have you appreciate his efforts. Being disinterested or resistant will just make him try harder.

Says cheesy stuff like “happy wife, happy life” unironically. He’s also the type to use terrible pickup lines to flirt with you. Totally unaware of how bad they are until you start laughing.

He also doesn’t care that they’re bad. He’s just having fun.

Loves to give you his clothes to wear. Seriously. You want one of his hoodies? Try six of them.

You complain when one stops smelling like him so he puts it on, works out, then gives it back to you like :D! Fixed the problem!

He takes so many pictures of you guys. Videos, too. His phone storage is eaten up by it. His favorite thing is to take selfies together. Usually with some silly filter. Or an even sillier caption.

“me and the babe out shopping” and it’s a picture of you, holding a piece of fruit with the dog ears filter

He’s not the most physically affectionate, but he always gives you morning kisses and especially kisses before leaving the house. He also loves carrying you around (mostly bridal style) in his arms for no reason other than he can. A hand on your back, another on your thighs, your head pressed against his chest. He loves it.

He loves knowing you find him physically attractive! He worries sometimes about being too overweight, so any reassurance that you like his body helps. If you think he’s hot, and you’re hot yourself, that must mean he definitely is.

Has a tendency to call you hot, but he’ll call you other things if it makes you uncomfortable.

Occasionally brags about you and how lucky he is. Not as often as you might think. Though he gets oddly competitive if anyone acts like their partner is better than you and starts spouting whatever he can so everyone knows you’re the absolute best. No competition.

[abbyromanoff]

can u write dark g!p nat x fem reader pls pls hehe ty

LOVE POTION

PAIRINGS: Natasha Romanoff x maximoff!reader

WORD COUNT: 1,919

WARNINGS: smut, dark!Nat, kinda dark!Wanda, manipulation, delusional!Nat, cheating, use of magic, mind games, small smut, pining, small angst, think that’s all :)

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN!!

“Wanda, please!” Nat begged, feeling more hopeless as the witch tried to ignore her.

“I told you, Nat, I’m not letting you drug my own sibling!” She countered, setting her food down on the counter as she grabbed a fork to stab into the chicken. It was a new recipe she had been wanting to try out for months now and finally got to, if only Nat wasn’t bothering her only sense of peace.

“I’m not drugging them, I’m simply guiding them in the right direction.” Wanda rolled her eyes, chugging down the glass of water in front of her. She didn’t know how she got stuck in this mess, but she wished she never did. Everyone knew Nat was in love with you, except you. You seemed clueless to her obvious signs sent your way, or maybe you chose to ignore it.

She didn’t believe your girlfriend deserved you, she wasn’t right. She knew how you should be treated and loved, and she knew she’d have to be the one to show you.

“C’mon, you know they deserve better, and you know I can show them that.” Wanda sighed, forcing herself to rid the thoughts that she could be right away. Your partner wasn’t the best person in the world, and she definitely wasn’t the best to you. She tried putting it in your head what she knew, but you were oblivious to Sharon’s acts. Maybe you had noticed a few out-of-place acts, but you still loved her, you couldn’t just change that instantly.

“You know deep down they need to be saved or else they’ll never leave her-“

“Who they choose to love is not my business-“

“Who they choose to love is not who they should love, Wanda!” She started. “You can’t deny it, you know I’m right but you refuse to admit it.” There was a long beat of silence, neither of them deciding to fill it. Wanda looked down when she felt a hand on top of hers, caressing the skin soothingly.

“Please, I want to help them. It’ll only get worse if I don’t.” She remained quiet.

“Do you remember the first time you saw a bruise on their skin? You asked what it was from and you told me you could tell they were lying. Or when you found Y/N crying alone in their bed, you asked them what was wrong and they said they found a hickey on Sharon’s neck. Please, Wanda, you need to let me do this or they’ll never be safe. Don’t you want to save your little sibling?” She was manipulating her, she knew that, but she did it oh-so well. Wanda felt tears threatening to pool in her eyes as they layered a gloss.

“They can’t know about this. If they find out, I was never a part of it-“

“Of course, of course. I will never let them find out, and if they do, you didn’t have a single clue.” Wanda nodded slowly, putting her head in her hands while a sniffle left her.

“Well, when it’s done, let me know.”

The party was loud, creating a tense stimulation in your mind. You clawed at your fingers, playing with the promise ring your girlfriend had gotten you months ago. It didn’t shine like before, now it only held a dullness under the light.

“You want some company?” You heard a low voice come from behind you, turning around only to see your best friend, Nat. She had been with you through thick and thin, you loved her more than anything possible.

“Yeah, that would be nice.” A conversation struck between the two of you, and it felt like everything and everyone else disappeared. It was like sitting on clouds, it was just pure peace.

“I’m gonna get a drink, you want one?”

“Oh, I really shouldn’t.” You chuckled, pulling down the side of your dress that chose to ride up. She eyed you teasingly, leaning in to give a small smirk while your gaze fell to her lips. Suddenly, you remembered Sharon who was just across the room. Instantly, you pulled back, blinking a few times before clearing your throat.

“Uh, you know what, maybe I will take one.” She nodded and left, returning moments later with your drinks. You didn’t notice or question the slight glow surrounding your glass, only chugging down the liquid until your throat burned.

“Fuck, this is strong. What is this?”

“It’s a surprise, sweetheart.” You rolled your eyes before she rested her hand on your thigh, rubbing soft and gentle circles that brought you ease.

“Alright, I think me and Y/N should be heading out right about now.” Came your girlfriend's voice. You could sense the jealousy and fury roaming in her tone, she never was one to like your friends. She assumed they took advantage of your kindness and innocence, but in Nat’s mind, so did she.

“Oh, yeah, sure.” Nat decided to let you go without argument, knowing that her plan had worked. The drink should only take a few hours to start working, and then, you’ll be all hers.

“See you soon, Y/N.” You waved in return with a small smile, clutching onto your girlfriend's forceful hold. Her fingers were interlaced with yours, creating redness the harder she squeezed.

“Sharon, you’re hurting me.” She stopped, turning to look at you with flared nostrils, her mouth slightly agape before a hand came up to your neck.

“You’re mine, you got that? Not Nat’s; mine.”

The month flew by quickly, most of your time being spent working or entertaining your girlfriend in your shared apartment. But something was different, something felt odd but you couldn’t quite explain it.

You didn’t know why you felt this way, but it felt as though a pit was formed at the bottom of your stomach, and every time Nat would be nearby, butterflies surrounded that cluster. Your brain would turn foggy and your pupils would dilate, these were all signs that you knew all too well. This is what you felt for Sharon; felt. Past context. Of course, you still cared for and loved her, but it wasn’t the same as before. Any time you’d share an intimate moment, you imagined your best friend. It only got worse the more you saw her, and the less you saw the blonde.

She had been on a mission for a week now and, you hated to admit it, but it felt almost relieving to have her gone. You loved her company, but you felt so guilty in her presence. Her absence also gave you time to think, but the only thing that would come to your mind is Nat. It’s gotten so bad that one night you awoke from a lustful dream where Nat was the star.

“Hey, babes.” The voice brought you out of your trance, causing you to jump before you saw who it was.

“Jesus, Nat, you scared me.” She chuckled with a small apology when you slapped her arm lightly, nearly shuddering as you felt the biceps bulging beneath her shirt.

“Did you just finish working out?” You asked curiously, although you already knew the answer.

“Yeah, Steve gave me a new schedule for once. Why, you need a training partner?” She hoped you’d say yes, that way she could be as close to you as possible.

“Uh, I was actually hoping you could help spot me. I want to hit a new PR.” She nodded while taking a sip of her water, her jawline seeming to shine perfectly under the light. You gulped, suddenly finding the floor much more important.

“Of course, you know I love helping my favorite Maximoff.”

“I’ll tell Wanda you said that.”

“Go ahead, I think we all know I’m not her favorite person either.”

The weights were heavy against you, but you continued to pull through with the help of the redhead. You couldn’t help but notice the proximity between you two, the thought sending you into waves of arousal. Her crotch was pressed against your ass, her arms hovering over your waist as her face was so close to your neck, you imagined her lips painting the skin with purple hickeys.

“C’mon, you can do more!” You whimpered as your legs struggled to lift you, Nat quickly stepping in to pull you up when realizing you couldn’t do it.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me today, I can usually get at least six reps on that.” You sighed, biting your lip as your chest heaved for hope of oxygen.

“You’re distracted. What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours that has you so out of it?” She leaned down to become level with you as you crouched, lowering your head in annoyance.

“Nothing, alright? I’m just having an off day.” She huffed, clearly not believing your lie.

“You don’t need to lie to me, Y/N. Seriously, I’m your best friend, you can tell me anything.” Her hand came to your shoulder in what seemed a comforting gesture, but it only caused you to pull away.

“Maybe that’s the problem.” Her eyes widened slightly, her mouth parting as her eyebrows furrowed. You couldn’t bear to look at her face without being tempted to pull her in and kiss her then and there, confessing everything that had been brewing in your mind for what felt like years.

“What?”

“Maybe you’re my problem, Nat.”

“H-how? What did I do?” You didn’t give a response, causing her to ask again. She was worried her plan went to failure, maybe Wanda went behind her back to protect her sibling. No, she couldn’t have, Nat knew her well enough to know she fell for her manipulation so easily.

“Nothing, that’s the problem! You sit there, looking so fucking perfect all the damn time and I hate it! I hate how much I just want to hold you, and kiss you, and care for you, but I can’t have that. I can’t have you, Nat.” Her heart swelled in delight; it worked. The magic worked and now it was all in her hands, she wasn’t going to mess this up.

She quickly strutted forward, grasping the sides of your face as she pulled you in for a deep kiss, one that you melted into instantly. Sharon was completely ridden from your mind, all you cared about was this. Nat was here, you were her, everything else could come later.

“You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting to do this.” She pressed her lips to the side of your neck, inhaling the scent you radiated. You felt amazing in her arms, she never wanted to let go.

“Fuck, I need you so bad, Natty.” Your breath was short, your smile sending Nat into a trance. She wasn’t going to let you go, you were safe with her.

Wanda walked into the gym, noticing two bottles of water that had been knocked over. She furrowed her brows in confusion before a small sound came from the showers. She could sense it was you, but Sharon was still gone. That’s when it hit her, Nat’s bottle was right next to yours. It worked, the drink she created worked.

She felt so guilty, she never wanted to hurt you, but she knew your girlfriend would only cause harm. She didn’t know what to do, she could only hope you’d never find out. And if you did, she didn’t have a single clue about any of this.

[oikyskau]

seeing kenji muto, the director of trigun stampede, reading an article about the portrayal of women in media made me want to take a little bit of a closer look at the women in trigun and as i was rambling about this earlier to my partner, they told me to write it down LMAO

as most of us know, in a lot of fiction, women are mostly characterised through common tropes, leading to a lack of complexity and a one-dimensional portrayal: as the doting wife, the femme fatale, the mistress, or the virgin. Their role only amounts to an Other, an extension of the male hero. they’re either the whore or the madonna.

for female characters in anime that usually means they’re either the sexy femme fatale, big badonkers and all to be gazed at, the mother, the helpless damsel in distress, or the child (yet, still sexualised despite the fact that it is a literal child); they’re portrayed through the way they are being perceived by men and mostly sexualised beyond belief. 

tristamp doesn’t do any of that.

in fact, the female characters in stampede achieve something that you don’t often see in anime: they are people. and stampede makes that clear in its very first episode by decidedly not going the route that you would usually take with the female characters they introduce:

of course, the biggest example here would be meryl, who i’d argue is the biggest driver of the plot, despite the fact that the plot of stampede is technically determined by vash - vash is an entirely passive character, he doesn’t make things happen, things happen to him and they mostly happen to him because of meryl. she’s the one who unties him, she drags them to the city, she makes them stay with him after ep3, she drives over wolfwood (rip my man), she stops for them to find rollo, she makes them follow the steamer.. you get it. she does all of this, despite being introduced as the newbie, the innocent person who would usually be the damsel in distress, who is helpless and shy and easily manipulated and who will probs be sexualised in her role as the “virgin” (sexually naive young girl who just doesn’t get all this adult sexuality yet hehe) 

but she’s not – she wears a non-sexualised outfit, she only gets called out for being a newbie, or for being small height-wise by wolfwood, but not for being a “girl”, she determines the action despite the fact that she does have a mentor figure and is therefore still in a position of a student – she still isnt an extension of roberto, vash, or anyone

in fact, the other characters – Rosa, Elendira, Luida, Rem – all take up roles that would in other media be portrayed in very specific ways: Rosa could just be a pregnant mother, who is also a divorcee, Elendira could be an innocent child beholden to her caretaker, Luida could be the loving motherlike figure and rem the Madonna figure, symbolising all the virtues a woman should aspire to have. – Rosa is a leader, her pregnancy is mentioned one single time and never made a bigger part of her character, Elendira is young but powerful, making choices by herself that are not inherently based on any kind of innocence, Luida doesn’t coddle Vash or prioritise him over her own work and mission (which also serves to inspire another woman, meryl!!), and rem is also just a non-perfect person, with secrets and questionable morality

none of these women are judged on the basis of their gender, none of them experience gender-based violence, none of them are made into a joke, none of them are sexualised (or desexualised – if you compare them to the male characters, who also do not ever make jokes about sexual promiscuity or similar stuff), they have different body types (rem has a very pronounced chest, and yet stampede doesn’t ever focus on it or give her cleavage) – note also that when presented with the perfect opportunity to call a female character a “bitch”, they chose to go with a “witch” instead, in both original japanese and english dub

their femininity is not used as a weapon against them, nor are stereotypical hypermasculine elements used to define characters’ positive traits (vash not being our traditionally hypermasculine hero for example) - the only time we see a semblance of gender-based violence is, you guessed it, at the very end, when knives forcefully takes control and bodily autonomy away from vash and inseminates the plants against their will (also interesting to note that knives, as the character that does exhibit that kind of violence, is the only character to be shown incredibly buff and all muscle) 

the women in tristamp are written for women, with the goal to be women that we can recognise, that represent the women that we are and know

anyways, i love all women in tristamp and have not once felt uncomfortable or said “oh look, a panty shot” and honestly i just find that pretty neat